


Hermione Granger and the Tour de Magic

by norcalsor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cross-Generation Relationship, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcalsor/pseuds/norcalsor
Summary: Amidst the wreckage of a failed marriage, up and coming Ministry official Hermione Granger stands at the brink of her professional life's goal: a series of international conferences to seal the creation of a global alliance of magic to fend against the next Voldemort or Grindelwald.In between terms and having recently lost his grandmother, Teddy Lupin is sent to accompany and assist Undersecretary Granger for the summer, a woman whom he just happens to have been impossibly in love with since forever.Along with Draco Malfoy as their third unlikely companion, the British wizarding trio must navigate a messy cauldron of international politics, personal turmoil, and perhaps one or two assassins determined to kill Undersecretary Granger and destroy her life's work.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Teddy Lupin, Other Canon Relationships
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Prelude: London

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: The following story describes and revolves around a relationship between an adult woman and an underaged partner. 
> 
> The story does not endorse the relationship described within...nor does it condemn it explicitly either. Instead, this story aims to explore all the complexities of such a relationship, evaluate it in a way that does not ignore the moral pitfalls of such a pairing, even as the characters may or may not choose to further engage in it, and in a way that the author hopes is grounded in reality, as opposed to wish fulfillment type fantasies (not that the author has anything against such stories...only that this story does not fall into such a category).

As he was wont to do, the man once known as the Boy Who Lived leaned against the frame of his son's bedroom door for countless minutes, watching the blanket covering his youngest son hover up and down while the boy named after the two men who'd most influenced his career at Hogwarts drifted through a fitful sleep. He hoped Albus's dreams were pleasant, though feared otherwise. Too often Harry wondered what thoughts, dark or not, ran through his younger son's head. Albus was young, yet already naturally inclined against sharing his feelings, his doubts, with the parents who loved him so much. Things were tense with Ginny, because they both went to sleep anxious, and woke up anxious, not least of which because of all their worries for Albus.

Harry left Albus's door, closing it gently, whispering a silence spell not to wake his son, then crept up upon the bedroom next door. He did not open the door, because the young man sleeping in their guest bed was far from a child, though still far from grown. It had not been an easy end of the school term for his godson, yet Harry still feared the worst for the months still to come. The few times they saw each other each year, Headmistress McGonagall often beamed when telling him how she'd expected Teddy, the brightest student by far in his class, to be named Head Boy one day, his seventh year approaching with unnerving velocity. Harry could only hope this setback would not distract the boy from his most promising future.

Sensing nothing more than a slumbering teenager inside their guest bedroom, Harry (they still called him by that childish moniker even though he was a man grown because, well, what other name did he have?) wandered down the stairway into their dining room, where his wife fidgeted nervously on the couch, brown eyes focused unhappily upon their muggle television set, and the typical kind of idiotic love triangle 'reality' shows Ginny watched obsessively whenever her nerves were especially shot.

"Let me guess," Harry laughed, trying to shrug off the tension between husband and wife, "the blonde one can't decide between the artist and the surfer guy."

She didn't answer him, and barely made an effort to acknowledge his presence until he slid next to her on the couch, whereupon the Mrs. Ginerva Potter, nee Weasley, practically crawled into her husband's lap.

"I don't think we can do this, Harry."

 _This again,_ Harry thought. He just wanted a rest. The funeral had been hard on all of them, from his own family, having to lecture to his two sons on the meaning of death, and how sometimes even the strongest magic couldn't even prevent it, to even the likes of Draco Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks being a not just a distant relation of his, but one of the last of the dying Black family from which his mother was born by. Regret and contrition was more powerful than hatred, Harry had mused during the old matriarch's funeral. He'd never been friendly with the younger Malfoy, certainly not at Hogwarts, or since, but he'd come to respect the man who'd emerged from his childhood mistakes, not least of which because Hermione did constantly vouch for her ministry colleague.

"It's not just us," he replied to Ginny. "There's the Burrow too, Teddy can spend time there when...when we're preoccupied."

The problem was Albus. His eldest son had always been an easy child, from practically his birth. But Albus...they worried about him. Until he came of age for Hogwarts, their children had to attend the Muggle schools; in some ways, Albus was too advanced for such settings. In others, he was an ill fit, disastrously, and both Harry and Ginny wondered how things would translate once the day approached for his first year, mere years from now.

"The Burrow is a mess," Ginny rebutted firmly, if gently. "My mother...she hasn't taken the divorce well. You know I love her Harry, and think the world of her...but...Hugo and Rose are going to be more than enough for mother...I don't think she can even carry through with seeing them through the day without crying." Gently, she gripped her husband's weathered hands, hating herself for the words she spoke, and the rejection within them, yet knowing that it was her duty to her own brood, her beloved children. "Teddy would find himself alone there. He'd be miserable."

"He'd doesn't have to be alone here," Harry asserted, knowing otherwise. They'd considered sending the young orphan to Malfoy Manor ( _orphan_ , an unpleasant concept, Harry mused, through no fault of his own, but that was truly the honest truth about Edward Lupin now, more than ever), but that had been dismissed as well. The year had not been kind for Astoria, all the Ministry holiday gatherings inherently awkward while they all speculated silently as to how much longer she could bear through the evil curse thrust upon her. As much as Harry vowed and promised to view Draco as the respectable man he was now, rather than the villain he'd been in their youth, he was loathe to send his godson to the Malfoys to raise, by Merlin, even for a summer.

"How's Ron," he asked. Ron Weasley was one of his two best friends, yet he barely spoken to him for months, ever since his other best friend had thrown him out of their house. Ginny didn't have a choice, family and all.

"He's got himself a flat in Clerkenwell."

"Clerkenwell?" Harry frowned. Ron had not mentioned this at the funeral today. He tried to recall what Muggle knowledge he knew of the place. "That's a young neighborhood, isn't it? Lots of pubs, lots of young girls frequenting said pubs?"

"Indeed," Ginny replied with clenched teeth. Shared blood or not, his wife was not wont to forgive her older brother easily for betraying their dear friend Hermione, who'd been _practically_ family well before she'd tied the knot with Ron.

"Look, Harry..." She squeezed his hand again, which said to him that she was about to ask of him something he would not like. "If Teddy has no other place to go, then of course we can make it work, between here, and the Burrow. Even Draco. It won't be easy, with everything we've planned for Albus this summer..."

This was supposed to have been the summer they dedicated to their younger child, to understand him, to try and see through his eyes, to bring him up to speed to where he needed to be.

"But we can do it," Ginny continued. "Mother and father will do what she can, and you know my brothers will too."

Harry chuckled. "Think Teddy's better off the more he stays away from your brothers."

"And Fleur told me her parents would gladly take him in," Ginny added. Left unspoken, Ginny had grasped quickly, was why her Veela sister-in-law did not offer up her own home, Victoire was one of Teddy's best friends, after all. But Fleur had sounded tense, and Ginny wondered just how well things were in her oldest brother's household.

"But you have a better idea," Harry surmised.

Almost imperceptibly, Ginny bit her lip, in a way which would be unnoticed except before the closest of spouses of family, before continuing. "What about Hermione?"

"Hermione?"

"I don't need you to tell me how overworked she is." Once she started, she wasn't about to hesitate, or stop herself. "This summer tour's no vacation for her, you've said it yourself, Harry."

"So?"

Ginerva sighed, her brilliant husband could be so oblivious sometimes. "What's the Muggle word for it...an apprentice, assistant...intern!"

Harry frowned. This strange idea from his wife might possess some logic to it, yet Harry could not help but wonder at her sincerity. Ginny was wonderful, he loved her, but he knew that nothing weighed more in importance than her children...not even their godson. Just how much thought had she given to this hare brained plan of hers to rid themselves of an admittedly inconvenient burden?

"Ginny, you know...you know that Hermione's worked her entire life for this. The International Conference of Magical Alliances is everything she...everything all of us have worked for, ever since England stood alone against the Dark Lord!"

His words did not appear to affect his wife in the least. "So all the better she has help," Ginny said with a shrug. _Cold_ , she was cold, wasn't she, when it came to caring for their family.

Harry rubbed his head, wondering at what strategy to approach his wife with to disabuse her of this ridiculous notion. Merlin, a duel against Death Eaters was easier, he didn't have to appease them at all.

"Hermione cares for him, of course," he continued, "she's practically an aunt to him. And I don't doubt her heart, it's as big as the moon, family or not...but this isn't the time for her to babysit, Ginny. Not when it comes to the alliance...and not after everything that's happened the last six months."

Not when these very conferences might have cost Hermione and Ron their marriage, he was afraid to voice out loud.

"Harry," Ginerva said, another tight squeeze upon his wrists, "you know I love Hermione, and you know how I feel about her after...after everything Ron did to her. This will be good for her...it'll be good for both of them, Harry. You know I wouldn't bring it up otherwise. I do love Teddy, he's a wonderful boy...he's growing up into a wonderful young man. I wouldn't suggest this unless I genuinely believe it'd be a valuable experience for him, and Hermione too. Who else would you trust to help him through this summer, Harry? Draco Malfoy? Godric, I love Apolline and Jean-Paul, it's not like they'd be strangers to Teddy, but they're not his family either."

"They'll be travelling the world," Harry stammered, wondering why it scared him even more knowing that this was a well planned idea of Ginny's, rather than just merely spur of the moment effort to ditch their godson in his greatest hour of need. "Hermione told me, practically every continent..."

"Our Teddy gets to see the world," she replied, beaming. "He doesn't have to think of his grandmother's passing, not when he gets the opportunity to do what none of us ever had, Harry. He'll mature, he'll learn, he'll become a better man for it. And who better than under Hermione's tutelage? I can't think of anyone better, even if she has him making coffee for her and preparing travel spells and organizing paperwork. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement, Harry, it'll be good for both of them." She paused. "She's a natural teacher, I think. If she weren't so damned set on becoming the next Minister of Magic...I could see her at Hogwarts, next in line for Headmistress..."

"Are you trying to steer her into a different career path?" He asked this carefully, hiding his incredulousness deep within the context of his words. Did Ginny blame Hermione's career for Ron's affair, he wondered, was this Ginny's roundabout, completely indirect way, at bringing about a reconciliation? To his chagrin, his delicate wife did not answer him immediately.

"I wouldn't presume," Ginny said curtly, in a way which raised more questions than answers for her husband. And there was that _thing_. Ought he mention it? He could sympathize, Teddy was young, and hormones were hormones.

"Ginny," he carefully broached, "Teddy..."

He closed his eyes. Apprehensive as he was, it did make sense, in a completely logical sort of way. Any help Hermione received with the most important initiative of her career would be appreciated, and he did not doubt that Teddy was up to the task, even given the taskmaster. And he could not deny that a summer spent travelling the world might be beneficial for the young man, with a trusted family friend no less, reminding him that he certainly was _not alone_ in this world, while all the while conveniently ridding him from their lives while they tended to their own children, and Hugo and Rose, and Ron, Merlin help him, lost as his friend was these days.

"Two years ago..."

"What?"

"It was Potterfest," Harry said, referring begrudgingly to the birthday celebrations his friends insisted on holding for him each year, "the time we hosted here. Teddy stayed in our guest room that weekend."

"I remember," Ginny said with a laugh. "You'd think Andromeda never allowed him any sweets, the way he devoured our toffees."

"Yes," Harry replied absentmindedly. Chocolates were the last of his concerns right now. "Well, I...I didn't think he was in the room, you see, I thought he was out there with the kids and...and Victoire, so I opened the door, you told me to clean his room, you know..." He paused, unsure of how to proceed. "I think I _caught_ him...well...in the middle of, well, being a young man, doing, ahem, young man things..."

He tried to banish the picture of the flustered boy, hurried burying the blanket over his midsection, and forget the cleansing spells he'd inflicted upon the room hours later, once he was sure that Teddy no longer occupied it for the moment. Why was he blushing? By Morgana, this was so unnerving to describe to his wife. "And there was a picture of Hermoine. He was holding it. He tried to hide it under his blanket when I opened the door, I saw it Ginny. I think..."

Again his beautiful wife pursed her lips, processing the information, delving through it as fastidiously as Hermione would through a ministry brief. "So he might have a teenage crush on his dear Aunt Hermione," she finally concluded.

"Yes. Given that possibility, do really think it'd be a good idea..."

"Do you trust Hermione, Harry?"

"Of course I do," he scoffed, not appreciating the implication, that his best friend, that the most righteous and upright and disciplined woman he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing, would do anything to betray their trust.

"I do too," Ginny said simply. "If it's some kind of teenage infatuation, obviously Hermione would put an end to it immediately, assuming Teddy still feels it for her. He'd learn something useful, to be honest, aside from just ministry paperwork, he'll learn how to properly respect a woman like Hermione Weas...sorry, Granger. He'd learn that this, this teenage sex object he might think of her as, well, it'd be quite the wake up call for our godson, wouldn't it? Yes, a learning experience, that's exactly what he needs. I don't know if your imagination might be acting up a bit, Harry, but if it's not, then I can't think of anyone better than Hermione to teach our Teddy to respect women, especially strong women like ourselves...not drool and lust over us like a rabid dog. Godric knows had Ron these lessons earlier at Hogwarts..."

Damned by Slytherin, trust his wife to turn his own arguments against him. He did not appreciate her insinuation, especially when it came to Teddy's perhaps, more canine blood, or rather lupine, yet it was the truth, wasn't it? Ginny was blunt, she did not mince words, and that was why he loved her after all, one of the many reasons.

"It's not the worst idea," he finally conceded. "I'll ask her. Can't promise she'd agree."

Softy, she kissed him on his cheek. "It's up to her. I can't presume to think for Hermione, I can't imagine what she's going through, being cheated on and all." An especially tight squeeze of his wrist, and Harry understood the implication. _Don't you ever dare._ "Of course it's completely her decision. I think Teddy will help, he's bright, and he's a quick learner. I think she'll be thanking us by the time her new favorite assistant has to return for Fifth Year at Hogwarts. In the meantime, well, everyone wins, don't we?"

The sly grin of a fox, and how could Harry refuse her, even as he wondered, at times such as these, how Ginerva Weasley hadn't been chosen for Slytherin after all.

* * *

"It's up to you of course. You know Teddy, he's a bright young man, on his way to making Head Boy, Minerva tells me."

"I don't doubt any of that," the young Undersecretary for Foreign Magical Affairs replied her friend. "You speak of Teddy to me as if my nephew's a complete stranger to me." Not a nephew by blood, Hermione reminded herself, but close enough anyhow.

Of course Harry had come stammering into her office, dark eyes beckoning nervously for what Hermione knew was to be a _big favor_. Of course he'd word it dumbly, stumbling through his request as if Harry Potter was the nervous fourth year boy, and not his godson.

"The Headmistress tells me that, contingent upon a satisfactory performance, upon your testimony of course, she may be willing to award Teddy points for Hufflepuff. Think of it as an internship."

Still sitting, his best friend frowned behind her impeccably organized desk. "I don't need an intern," Hermione almost growled. "This is serious business, Harry. I love Teddy, you know that, but babysitting a teenager is the last thing I need, however mature he is."

"I wouldn't be suggesting this unless I believed that Teddy would genuinely be able to help you, take a load off your burden, rather than add to it."

"You mean _Ginny_ wouldn't be suggesting this unless she genuinely believed..."

"He's a quick study," Harry interrupted, not wanting Hermione to strike too close to the truth. He looked down at the steaming mug of dark liquid on her desk. "He'll have your coffee ready the moment you step out your door every morning, I'll assure you that."

Despite the many readily available stimulants spells, the likely future Minister of Magic in front of him preferred copious helpings of the Muggle drink. He enjoyed the occasional cup too, but apparently Hermione was some kind of connoisseur.

"You know I'd help out gladly, if it were any other summer," she continued skeptically. "But I'm going to need more than just a glorified coffee maker."

"So you're admitting you do need help." A grin broke out on his face. Was it possible she could be convinced after all?

Hermione flinched, a rare slip up. She did not lose arguments, not to Harry, not to anyone. Morgana, all this shite with Ron was affecting her mind more than she could tolerate. "How is he with languages?"

"He knows some passable French, from Victoire," Harry replied, thinking out loud. "Some Spanish too, apparently he likes their soap operas. You'll be going through Mexico, won't you?"

The bushy haired woman shook her head. "South America, so Spanish will do regardless." She sighed quietly. Her heart broke for the orphaned boy, who'd just lost his last close living relative. Hermione could see the logic to Ginny's idea, obviously a trip around the world would be good for the teenager, get his mind off the fresh tragedy long enough until he could rejoin his friends at Hogwarts again. But did it have to come at her expense? He'd always been the sweetest child, in fact it was her nights watching Teddy at Harry's place that gave her the confidence that she and Ron could handle adding kids to their already busy careers, and he was never anything but pleasant company now that he was grown, or half grown, rather. But the stakes of this conference, everything she'd worked for her entire career...it was more important than sweet Teddy Lupin, her mind could coldly rationalize.

"Draco's presence would be good for him," Hermione conceded. "He wouldn't mind having his cousin around either, I'd bet."

"Draco's going?"

Hermione nodded. To the surprise of everyone, the Malfoy scion had emerged from his manor more than eight years before, offering his 'talents' to the ministry, to Harry's everlasting suspicion. He'd risen steadily through the ranks of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, though Harry wondered whether it was actually because of his abilities and work ethic, rather than family name. But Hermione vouched for him, asserting that he was actually damned good at his job, and _definitely_ not secretly infiltrating the ministry to bring about yet another bout of the Dark Lord's return.

Probably not, anyhow.

"A major priority of the conferences is to align the enforcement initiatives on an international level, to merge legal standards, and create an uniform protocol..."

"I get it." He didn't. "I can see the logic. I'm just surprised he'd leave Astoria and Scorpius for an entire summer." Unless Malfoy was up to something. He was probably up to something. Harry reminded himself to ask around discretely.

"He doesn't want to go," Hermione said defensively. "But this is important, Harry, you know that. This will literally make the magical world, and I mean _world_ , a better place. We all have to make sacrifices."

As she spoke, she wondered whether her marriage had already been burnt at the altar of international magical accord. Standing before her, Harry's eye twitched while he likely held back any further accusations towards his one time rival. Well, Draco had been both their rivals actually, and she'd been the one who'd punched him in the face, not Harry, or her soon to be ex-husband, and even though she'd learned to forgive, if not forget, their rehabilitated enemies from the war, Hermione had been as skeptical as anyone of Draco's arrival at the ministry, at least in the beginning.

"Much as I detest the idea of a Malfoy leaving any influence upon my impressionable godson," Harry muttered, "they are his family. He'd be able to share in the babysitting..." Quickly he bit his lip, and backtracked. "Not that there'd be any babysitting at all, for a responsible, mature, and brilliant teenager who'd obviously contribute rather than be a burden to the two of you on this trip."

The Undersecretary for Foreign Magical Affairs glared evilly at him, but Harry could sense that his best friend was holding back a laugh. Which meant he'd convinced her, perhaps? That he'd scored a rare victory in 'argument' against his brilliant friend?

"He'll be on his best behavior," Hermione asserted firmly. "He will take whatever tasks I give him seriously. He will not stray, he will be obedient, he will follow instructions."

"That's our Teddy," he agreed nervously.

"You're right," she continued, speaking to him as the Undersecretary, rather than his dear friend, "this will be considered an extension of his school year, I'll see to that. If he does well, as you and I both expect him to, then perhaps Minerva will give House Hufflepuff will get a head start in points for the coming year. But if his performance is less than satisfactory, Merlin forbid he causes the initiative any harm, well, I will make a full and _honest_ accounting of his performance to the Headmistress regardless."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Harry agreed. He felt awful about abandoning his godson, his sacred charge, in his hour of need, but he had his own family too, after all. He felt less awful now, knowing that Teddy would be in good hands with the strict Undersecretary. In the end, he wondered whether that was why Hermione agreed, not because he'd convinced her of Teddy's usefulness, but precisely because his best friend understood just how awful he felt about this, yet how _absolutely necessary_ it was to him and Ginny and Albus, that he'd foist onto her this responsibility in the first place.


	2. Paris

The young man in the train could not help but stare in awe at the beautiful woman seated across from him. He tried to not to make it too obvious when she'd been awake, but the beautiful woman Teddy Lupin no longer thought of as an aunt had collapsed into slumber the moment their Muggle train made its way out of Victoria Station. It had been a long day for him too, spent with Harry and Ginny and the kids, kicking around a soccer ball with James, and reading a book with Albus. He didn't doubt that Hermione had a similar sort of day, as Teddy could still recall her tears saying goodbye to her two children, Hugo and Rose, at the station. That was why they'd taken the red eye after all, so that both she and Draco could milk every last minute with their respective families before departing for nearly an entire summer; thank Merlin for the Floo at least, so that they could still make quick visits when their busy schedule permitted it.

Rose and Hugo's father had been nowhere to be seen. Teddy would punch the man if he could. How dare he hurt Hermione, how dare he devastate the lives of their two beautiful children? How could he ever have eyes for another when he'd been lucky enough to land the most amazing, impressive woman Teddy had ever met, how could he throw it all away on some pub floozie, according to the whispers he'd heard? He worried for them too. Rose was Albus's age, Hugo even younger, and far more impressionable. They would spend the summer at the Burrow. Not that it was even his place to have an opinion, but Teddy would frown at that, if it weren't for the fact that apparently the one woman who'd been more angry at Ron Weasley's infidelities than his wife, was his mother.

"Can't sleep?" Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and Teddy hurriedly glanced away, trying to look indifferent and unperturbed by _her_. Next to her, seated by the window, Draco Malfoy, technically his cousin, though the man felt more like an uncle, snored softly against the train window. The Muggle conductor had thought the two of them a couple, Teddy their child, and even the implication of it had given him a sudden and unexpected surge of jealousy, before realizing how absurd it was that the Gryffindor and happily married Slytherin seated before him would ever 'hook up', as his friends would say.

"I'm kind of a night owl," Teddy replied. While his heart still ached for his grandmother, while he still occasionally wept for her softly when he was alone, missing her every single waking moment, he couldn't help at the same time his excitement that he'd be spending his entire summer with _her_! The woman he'd been in love with before he even knew what it meant!

"I suggest you use a spell to fix that," Hermione said curtly. "Our schedule's going to be extremely tight, I need not remind you. Early mornings most days, meetings start at eight promptly, and I've told you I prefer at least an hour of preparation beforehand, if not more..."

"I'll have your coffee ready for you every day, 6 AM, I swear." He'd do anything for her. He also hated early mornings.

"Not to mention the time zones," the beautiful woman continued, the mere movement of her soft lips the most entrancing sight in the whole world to Teddy. "I know a few good spells for jetlag, I'll teach them to you."

Because his work for her would be considered part of his schooling, an exception was made so that he could perform magic outside of Hogwarts grounds, though solely for the purposes of their work, and only with Hermione's express permission for each magical act.

"You're used to travelling, Hermione," he asked her, trying to shift the conversation into an actual two-way talk, rather than a one-sided lecture. Both of them ignored Draco, who grunted in his sleep.

"I've traveled some," Hermione conceded. "Not that much, really. Maybe twice a term, at most. Always during the school year, mind you, when Rose and Hugo were in class, always returned by dinner time, Godric, I'd bring back Kobe beef fresh from Japan! But if you asked Ron, it's as if I was..."

She stopped. Teddy Lupin fidgeted awkwardly across from her, glancing out his window at the crescent moon. Morgana she was tired, she'd been this close to complaining about Ron to little Teddy, who did not need to be burdened by her personal troubles and assuredly did not care.

"You like trains though?" Quickly, the young man changed the subject. He was quick, Hermione would give him that. All the more likely he'd actually prove useful.

"I do," she said softly, her mind at once transported to happier days. "It reminds me of when I was your age. The magic of it all, my first trip to Hogwarts..." _With Ron. Always Ron_ , who until months ago, had been part and parcel of her happiest memories, and nothing short of a obliviate charm could change that. "It's calming," she continued, voice noticeable more controlled than before. "It's quiet, it gives me time to think."

"What about airplanes?"

Hermione's face squinted in disgust, an adorable tic, Teddy thought.

"There's a reason we'll be using the Floo once we take leave of the continent," she said stiffly.

 _Wish she could Apparate me instead_ , Teddy thought, before banishing the fantasy. He couldn't be distracted by his various longings for her. Not in front of her, at least.

"Well, I'm just glad you made Draco take a Muggle train." The man's disgust for his surroundings could be seen even while he slept. Hermione laughed, and Teddy felt his heart warming, that he could make her smile.

"Maybe I can get him drunk enough to try a sip of coffee."

Teddy's eyebrows rose, and Hermione rolled her eyes as his hair flipped green. "There's to be a lot of drinking on this trip?"

"An occasional glass of wine at dinner, perhaps," she admitted. "For the adults only," she added hastily. "Merlin, Harry will kill me if I let you get drunk on my watch."

To her chagrin, the boy merely shrugged his shoulders at the horrifying notion. "Just blame Draco. He'd be too happy to believe that."

They shared a sympathetic sigh together. Teddy would give his godfather credit, he made a commendable effort at not bad mouthing Draco in front of him, not too much, anyhow. To be honest, it was hard for him to imagine the Draco spoken of about by many of his own schoolmates, the bully, the one time Death Eater, and compare him to the loving husband and father before him now, as well as the more-than-generous uncle eager to spoil his kin. At least Hermione understood that, she was willing to work with the man, after all. Could Harry ever spend an entire summer working by Draco's side? Teddy doubted it.

The older woman yawned, appearing ready to doze away their remaining train ride, and Teddy felt more content too, his rapidly beating heart pacified by the fact that he'd been able to carry on an actual adult conversation with Hermione, however brief, and make her smile. Watching her drift back to sleep uncomfortably, leaning against her small neck pillow, Teddy imagined that she would rest her head against his shoulder, and feel her breath against his neck while she dozed lightly. It was enough to carry him into his own slumber.

Their train arrived in Paris before midnight, and they were greeted at the station by a dazzlingly beautiful woman whom Hermione instantly recognized. The two women embraced, and it took Teddy more than a few moments to recognize Victoire's grandmother, Apolline Delacour, who was to be their host for their stay in Paris.

"Come," she beckoned them, as Hermione with one wave of her wand transported all their luggage into the older woman's van waiting outside. He thought he saw Draco grimace at the sight of the vehicle, dreading another long ride in a Muggle transport, then breathe a sigh of relief when the bulky looking van flew through the sky, landing them on the premises of a vast estate on the outskirts of the city.

"I wish we could spend more time in Paris," Hermione said gently as they walked towards the manor's gates. She'd noticed Teddy gazing down through the windows, awestruck at the sight of the small, colorful city from the sky at night. "Had Harry not foisted this on me at the last minute, maybe we could have come here early. I would have loved to have taken you through the magical wing of the Louvre, the artifacts they have there are just...ugh, priceless. Eiffel Tower too I suppose, that's just the thing, I guess...but a day trip to Versailles..."

"You don't know how lucky you are, Teddy," Draco scoffed with a slightly impish grin upon his face. "Half the ministry would faint if the freshly single Undersecretary Granger offered them a romantic weekend in Paris."

"Stop teasing the boy, Draco." She slapped his shoulder playfully to emphasize her point. It did not escape her notice that Teddy blushed furiously and his hair instantly turned pink with Draco's remark. "Besides, technically until the divorce is final, I'm still a married woman. For now."

Harry had nervously whispered at Victoria Station, while avoiding her eyes, that he thought the young man _'might have a thing for you, I'm not sure'_ , before hurriedly taking his leave. Of course he'd make his confession when she could no longer change her mind about taking Teddy on anymore, not that the knowledge affected things. She'd taken on the worst Death Eaters the Dark Lord had mustered against her, Merlin forbid she'd be daunted by some harmless teenage crush.

Her friend was probably right. It hadn't escaped her notice that in the years since he'd hit puberty, Teddy's glances towards her had been anything but chaste. The boy thought he was being subtle, staring at her chest and other regions only when he thought she wasn't looking. It was silly, but it also made him no different than many of the men in the ministry building. If anything, the summer could hopefully dissuade him of his fantasy, once he truly found out truly just how boring, unglamorous, and utterly unsexy she was, and how ill-suited she would be for a boy his age. That, or he'd hate her by the end of the trip for being a stricter taskmaster than the worst of his professors.

Having recovered from his embarrassment, he turned to look her sincerely in her eyes. "I'm glad it happened this way, Hermione. You got to spend more time with Rose and Hugo. That's what's important. Paris will always be here another day."

"Thank you, Teddy." She turned triumphantly to Draco. "See, Malfoy, this is what it looks like to act the perfect gentleman."

"I've never implied that Teddy's anything but," Draco said, unperturbed by her taunt.

 _The kid was smooth_ , she thought as they climbed the stairs to where their respective rooms were located. She imagined there would be quite a few dozen schoolgirls in Hogwarts who was already infatuated with him the same way Ginny had been with Harry (or Lavender Brown with Ron, a darker voice in her head reminded her), and she reckoned that perhaps she could help give him a better sense of confidence and maturity with talking to women, which he could bring back with him to Hogwarts, and make a very pretty girl very lucky the coming term.

Stepping into her bedroom, she thought about calling her children, before realizing they were long asleep. Ought to be, anyway. Then, the tears began, and did not cease until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The Undersecretary for Foreign Magical Affairs woke up with swollen eyes, thinking about her children far away, and belatedly realizing she'd passed out in the same clothes she'd worn all day yesterday. "Morgana," she muttered to herself, "I still have to shower, change, FaceTime the kids..."

The Muggle device was useful, even the snootiest purebloods could admit, and as handy as any centuries old spell in a pinch.

Still wearing her bathrobe, she heard a tentative knock upon her door. Opening it just a crack, Hermione peeked out, but saw no one. Instead, there was a small table stand with a steaming hot cup of coffee, just the right amount of milk she preferred, she could tell from the coloring, as well as a stack of paperwork and notes, sorted exactly as she'd required.

"Thank you, Teddy," she called out from the room. No doubt the boy was somewhere within earshot, beaming to himself as he awaited her plaudits for a job well done on the first official day of their tour. "This is great, Teddy, by Godric I needed it."

Unlike most countries, the French Ministry of Magic was not located in the capital city, but out in Reims, a small town which had once been where the Kings of France received their crowning ceremonies. The French monarchy had long disappeared, and their ministry was perhaps the last relic of that Ancien Régime, in Hermione's opinion. Thank Merlin and Morgana for her friend Charlotte, who'd practically singlehandedly brought the French Ministry into the 20th century, if not quite the 21st just yet.

The first day of the conference was thoroughly unproductive, exactly as Hermione expected. There were too many introductions, too much posturing, all the bluffing and chest puffing as befit a first day together with so many politicians in one room, for that's what most of them were, even Hermione herself, stuck together and all plotting desperately as to how they'd gain an edge over their so called allies over the coming months.

"Here's my notes from the day," Teddy said as the meeting ended, handing her his notebook. She'd gotten him a pass to all the meetings, seated on the plain chairs in the back with all the other interns and assistants. Hermione was pretty sure he was the youngest of the bunch by far, and hoped he did not receive too much scorn for getting his position without actually earning it, though that was somewhat the truth. His notes were clear, concise, nothing spectacular, but an accurate enough reflective of a day which featured mainly introductions and the like.

_...Sunil Sharma, Indian delegation. Bright, talkative, appears highly intelligent. Arrogant? Likes to hear himself speak. Seems to dislike the Americans, but friendly inclined towards Ms. Valois of France. Also seemed hesitant w/Chinese delegates...nervous? Runs a magical creature sanctuary in India..._

_...Richard Morgan, US delegation. Friendly, relaxed, easy going, very AMERICAN. Was friendly with everyone in the room, though others appear apprehensive of him at times. Very flirtatious with the younger female delegates, including Ms. Granger. Appears to be wealthy, connected with businessmen..._

_...Igor Ustinov, Russian delegation. Quiet, secretive? Seems to be holding something back. Kept exchanging looks with Mr. Chou of the Chinese delegation. Are they up to something together? Unfriendly looks towards Ms. Granger of England, Ms. Valois of France, Mr. Schmidt of Germany..._

"Not bad," she said approvingly, carefully tearing the pages from his notebook, placing them inside her own folder of notes. "Very perceptive, if a bit quick at jumping towards conclusions with a first impression."

"Are they useful," he asked her eagerly. _It was good_ , she thought, _that he's clearly taking his job seriously_. That was more than she could say for half the actual delegates on the tour.

"They are. Helps confirm some of my own notions. Keep doing what you're doing, Teddy, I like it. When I'm at the table, sometimes I'm too focused on my own thoughts, perhaps I'm not able to notice some of the extracurriculars you can spot from your vantage point."

It was no secret that Ustinov and Chou were close, but Hermione herself hadn't noticed any rapport between Sharma and Charlotte Valois. It would bear keeping in mind going forward. She reminded herself to review his work later. Overall there'd be few similar revelations since Hermione was very familiar with most of the attendees after years of work in the field by now, but the deeper they got into the conferences, the more they would venture onto unexplored territory for her.

"Glad I can help," Teddy said, positively beaming at her approval of his work, his hair turning a dark shade of purple. "Anything you need me to do, let me know."

"You're a good worker," Hermoine replied, bemused at how easily flushed she could make him with barely a word. "I can see how..."

Before she could finish her sentence, a large hand clapped the back of Teddy's back, surprising him and nearly causing him to drop his notebook.

"Miz Granger," the large American representative said cheerily, and Hermione instinctively flinched the opposite direction. There was always something...leery, about the man. "Ah believe I've yet to be introduced to yer young charge here."

The man's accent sounded like American southern to her, but Charlotte, who was something of an expert on Americans, told her last year that it was more of a country western inflection. Or Texan, she hadn't been sure.

"This is Mr. Edward Lupin, my assistant for the summer. Teddy, Mr. Richard Morgan," she introduced properly, wondering if the stereotypically fat American man would recognize the name, and who his parents had been. If he knew however, he showed no reaction.

"Mr. Morgan," Teddy said nervously, offering his hand to shake, "a pleasure to meet you."

"Aw shucks, such a formal young man." Standing nearly a head taller than Teddy, his hand clasped around his shoulder once again as they shook hands. "Mah friends call me Cowboy Rick. I've always considered Miz Granger a good friend of mine, ain't that right, Hermione?"

The way he pronounced her name, it sounded more like _h_ _errrmeny._

"Absolutely," she replied, putting on her best smile. _Be diplomatic,_ she whispered to herself. As always in his presence she had to resist hexing him, or worse.

"Well Teddy," he continued, quickly catching on to his nickname. "If yer a friend of mah good friend Hermione, then yer a friend of mine."

"Delighted," Teddy muttered softly, unsure of how to handle the gregarious American. "A pleasure," he repeated himself.

He'd approached them while they stood in a corner of the room, intentionally, Hermione wondered. Hurriedly looking around, she spied a familiar face. Quickly, she pointed in her direction.

"Oh Belinda, how good to see you!" The hulking American looked behind him, spying the pretty witch and delegate from Brazil. "Mr. Morgan, you and Ms. Rodrigues met at the Conference of the Americas last year, didn't you?"

_Sorry Belinda._

Before he could finish his answer, Hermione tugged on Teddy's arm, pulling him away from the corner and towards corridor outside.

"Looks like I got him pegged all wrong in my notes. Don't fancy him much?"

She shook her head. "He's never been anything but polite to me..."

"But," he pressed her.

"There's whispers," she said quietly, deciding that she would confide in him as a colleague, because that's what he was to her for this summer. "The way he treats some of the women in his office..."

"Granger. Lupin."

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco, emerging from his own meeting with his international enforcement counterparts.

"Been a brilliant day for both of you, I trust?"

"Productive enough," Hermione lied. "Teddy just got to meet the Cowboy."

"Ah," Draco said bemusedly, face contorted into a smiling grimace, "that must've been a pleasure, eh?"

"Quite."

"Think about what you want for dinner, boys," Hermione said as they waited in the line for the Floo. "Our hosts have a prior engagement for the night, else they'd treat us no doubt. But Apolline has given me a good list of recommendations near the manor that we can pick up..."

"Surely you're not thinking of going back to the house," Draco asked in disbelief.

"Why wouldn't we," she asked him, confused. He'd never been the social butterfly kind of person, not since having been branded by the Dark Mark, anyhow.

"It's a Saturday night," he exclaimed in return, arms gesturing wildly towards their youngest companion. "Teddy's never been to Paris, and tomorrow's Sunday. There's only one meeting, and it's not until the afternoon."

"You can do what you'd like, Draco," Hermione grumbled, having little urge to argue with the Slytherin. "And Teddy..." Suddenly she stopped. The boy didn't look eager for an early night, and here she was presuming to speak for him. He was here to work, that was true, but Harry and Ginny wanted him to see the world too, to help take his mind off the all too recent death of his beloved grandmother. "You can go out with Draco if you'd like, though I'll warn you..."

"You should come Hermione," he said softly, his soft eyes sincerely beseeching her.

"Agreed, Lupin. What's the fun of seeing Paris without our resident Gryffindor snob of everything _Francais_ showing us the way?"

Both men looked expectantly at her. She knew why Teddy wanted her to go out so badly. But why Draco? Surely he wasn't trying to make a move on her, was he? No, definitively not. Maybe the man just didn't want to be alone. And just a fifteen year old for company, while Teddy was entirely pleasant, it still boiled down to babysitting, didn't it?

"Fine," she agreed reluctantly. "But only because it is a Saturday night, and I can't imagine the trouble the two of you would get into if I don't keep an eye on you."

"Great," Draco said. "We'll go back to the manor, you can Floo over to the Burrow for a few moments, I'll Floo back to see Astoria and Scorpius for a bit, then we'll both show Teddy a good night."

* * *

She was being too harsh on Malfoy, Hermione thought as she readied herself. Draco did care for Teddy, in his own way, they were family after all, and clearly he wanted the boy to get something out of this trip other than boring meetings all day, and get his mind off his recent loss. Draco had not wanted to leave Astoria, but he'd no choice, so clearly he preferred to not mull about it in his room from city to city, especially on their first night away.

It was past nine by the time she returned to Paris after putting her kids to bed, all the while doing her best to ignore all of Molly's subtle and not-so-subtle hints that she should meet again with Ron sometime. Upon her arrival, Hermione noticed through the open window that it still felt like earlier in the evening, an absurdly humid night for Paris, so she put on a light top, nothing too revealing, but it wouldn't do her any good to be uncomfortable and sweaty all night. Teddy emerged from his room in a t-shirt, and Draco a short sleeved collared shirt. Much as the pureblood wizard hated muggle clothes, he wasn't enough of an idiot to wear his robes out on a hot summer's night, Muggle district or not.

"Canal Saint-Martin is one of Fleur's favorite districts of the city," Hermione explained, as they emerged through the hearth of a small hostel. "I was hoping for a quiet spot," she continued, chagrined when they saw the crowds outside, "seems Fleur neglected to mention to me how popular this place is on a Saturday night."

Young, chic people in their twenties abounded, occupying every chair, table, and bench along the cafes, bars, and parks. Still, this was all new and exciting for Teddy, whose brown eyes lapped up the lively scene, the girls in short skirts and some, their breasts practically drooping out of their shirts.

"We should try Cafe la Grace," Hermione recalled. "Fleur said it's very good, but very expensive. The prices might thin out the crowds, I'm hoping."

Indeed it was a good choice. Located in a more residential part of the neighborhood still aligning the canal, they could hear the birds chirping from their table, and the slow rush of the water not drowned out by the loud din merely a few blocks away. Hermione wondered if Teddy was disappointed, whether he would have liked to converse more with the younger crowd nearby, but she was allowed to be a little selfish, and she sensed that Draco had little use for the increasingly inebriated partiers as well. Fortunately, Teddy seemed little displeased by the quieter surroundings.

"I don't know what any of this is," he frowned however at the menu. His French was passable enough to read the words, but that did him little good, especially since the cafe didn't seem to deign to add descriptions to their menu items.

"How adventurous is your palette, Teddy?"

"Not very," both he and Draco answered.

"I know your tastes, Draco," Hermione said, before addressing the teenager. "Do you like seafood at all?"

"I like fish and chips," Teddy said, before scolding himself for sounding so childish. "Some shrimp, clams maybe. Calamari and, oh, lobster..."

"Got it. I'll take it from here, for both of you."

The waiter arrived, and she rolled off in expert French the orders for their table, the words from her mouth sounding like the world's prettiest song to Teddy.

"...and the coq au vin for me, a bowl of bouillabaisse, and a coffee, please."

She'd ordered duck filet for Draco and the ratatouille for Teddy, along with some light finger sandwiches as appetizers. "We can share, try a bit of each other's courses, as much as you're comfortable with," she explained after telling them what she ordered. Before the waiter returned inside, Draco called him back over.

"Garcon?" He pointed towards the menu, muttering what words he recognized. "Bordeaux? 1982?"

Despite the language disconnect, and Draco's inadvertently rude manners, in Hermione's opinion, the waiter's eyes lit up. "Oui! Très bon, monsieur!"

"Draco," Hermione scolded angrily, grabbing the wine menu from him. "That...that is...far too much anyone should pay for a bottle of wine." She then muttered almost as an afterthought, "and out of all things, a _red_ , on a hot night like tonight..."

"It'll be worth it," the older man beamed, "trust me."

Teddy merely laughed it off. "I'm sure uncle Draco can afford it, Hermione."

"He can, but he's not paying for it," she replied angrily.

"You are," he asked in shock.

"Merlin no, it's all being _expensed_!"

"Expensed?" The young boy's eyes widened in shock. "You mean the _ministry_ is paying that much for a bottle of wine?"

"Of course," she said, before realizing just how naive the teenager was about the ways of the world. "It's all a boondoggle, all these meetings and conferences."

"A boondoggle," Teddy asked confused, as Draco merely sat back and watched the exchange bemusedly.

"Why do you think we're out here in Paris right now, or why we have reservations for hotels in Manhattan and Cartagena and such, when we can all Floo back home every night. Or conference in from our own ministry buildings, for the matter?"

"I was wondering that myself," he commented. "Figured the politicians wanted to travel around a bit?"

"Smart chap," Draco remarked.

"Exactly," Hermione agreed. "Practically all the Ritz and the rest of the five star hotels in the city are filled with delegates, all the fancy restaurants Muggle or not booked by politicians eager to empty their ministry's budgets on the finest food and wine for the next few months. Seems Draco's no different. At least we're saving some money staying with the Delacours here in France."

As if on cue, the waiter arrived with the wine, making a huge show of opening it and pouring generous helpings of the red liquid into their glasses, including Teddy's. Taking a small sip of coffee first, Teddy watched fascinated the indignant woman take a sip of the wine. She gasped.

"It is quite good," Hermione reluctantly conceded.

"Told ya so," Draco beamed smugly.

Carefully, he pulled the glass up to his mouth.

"Drink it slowly, Teddy," Hermione advised him, "don't rush it. Save most of it for when the food arrives, you don't want to drink too much on an empty stomach."

"It's...it's very sour," Teddy said, grimacing.

"You'll get used to the taste, kid."

Carefully, he took a second small sip, before setting the glass back on the table obediently. "I thought you said these conferences are very important, Hermione. To bring about peace in the magical world...not to spend money drinking and eating."

"It is very important," she insisted, frowning. "Unfortunately, part of the processing in bringing about magical world peace is...well, spoiling all the politicians and bureaucrats rotten enough to get them on board."

"My my, Granger, never figured you for such a cynic."

"I don't like it," she said, drinking more of her wine, "but it's the way the world is. For now, at least."

"And you're the one to change things," Draco continued taunting.

"I'm changing the world as we speak," Hermione replied defensively. Before Draco could continue, the Undersecretary eyed her wine and took another heavy sip of it, shutting out the annoying Malfoy prat seated next to her.

In her mind she made a note to thank Fleur for the suggestion. The food was indeed exquisite, the wine too admittedly, and Hermione tried not to think about expenses. It would be easy to rationalize such things, figuring all her international colleagues were spending just as much, if not more, but that did little to assuage her guilt.

"Dessert," she asked, after she'd ordered second bottle of wine, albeit this one white and much less expensive than Draco's indulgence.

"I'm so full already," Teddy protested.

"Really? I thought teenage boys like you eat like horses, or so I remember from school."

"Guess I'm not like most teenage boys," he replied. Was there just a little extra forwardness in his tone, Hermione wondered. Already she was regretting ordering the second bottle, and reminded herself to not allow Draco to pour the boy's glasses.

"Just wait until we get to America," Draco chortled, wiping his face with his napkin. "There's a reason most of them look like your Cowboy friend."

"That's unfair, Draco," she retorted, even though she chuckled alongside Teddy. "I know of many very nice American witches and wizards, many of whom don't have the need to stretch out their belts with spells."

 _This is nice_ , Hermione thought, as the three of them made light conversation through the night, gossiping about many of the delegates, her or Draco explaining to Teddy some of their inside jokes about the ministry folk new to him. It was almost enough for her to forget about the impending divorce, leaving her children for so long during the summer...or the reason that she'd been hesitant to accompany the boys into Paris earlier that evening, because this very city had been where she and Ron had enjoyed their honeymoon so many years ago.

He'd never been the Casanova type, of course she detested that sort, but he'd been charming enough, as much as Ron could be, at least, because he'd actually _tried_ then, Merlin be damned. They talked too, she recalled, making all the sort of promises newlyweds would promise each other. They were going to have so many children, and bring them back to Paris once they were old enough to appreciate it. Enjoyable as her present company was, Hermione could not help but drift off, wondering what it would be like to be sitting at this cafe with her husband and an older Rose and Hugo, old enough to enjoy their first taste of wine, because where else for such a first than Paris?

"...and Igor might look the quiet type, but wait until he gets halfway through a bottle of vodka!"

"Half a bottle? That's a lot, isn't i...Hermione? Are you alright?"

She hadn't realized she'd been crying until they were both gawking at her.

"Sorry," she blushed, "don't mind me. Just a bit of the sniffles." She tried to muster up a smile but the tears continued to flow.

"You're crying," Teddy gawked. He must have never seen her like this before. Nor should he, or Draco for the matter. There were very few people she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of. Much less since Ron's affair, even though she needed them more.

"Sorry," she continued apologizing, "I don't know what's gotten over me."

"Merlin, I should've remembered," the older wizard whispered softly, leaning back in his chair awkwardly looking like he wanted to Apparate from the scene here and now. "They had their honeymoon here," he muttered to Teddy.

"It's not your fault, Draco." She turned towards the young man, who looked petrified as he leaned forward towards her. She'd never seen him look so concerned, and thought she spied that there was a trace of anger in his eyes as well. "I'm so sorry, Teddy, for ruining such a lovely night."

"It's not your fault," Teddy said, feeling a burning rage rising through his heart along with the sound of his voice. "It's no one's fault, except his. You shouldn't have to apologize, Hermione, you should never have to apologize to anyone, especially about that. Ron...Ron's an, an ass, for what he did to you. He's the only one who should be apologizing."

Quietly, Draco beckoned their server over and handed him his card.

"It's alright Teddy," Hermione said, faking another smile. Maybe it was the wine, or his ire, clearly reflected by his flashing orange hair, but she noticed his hands were cupped over hers on the small table. Realizing it too, he shyly returned his hands deep into his pockets, but his eyes never left hers. "Ron's made mistakes. He's an ass yes. But he's not a bad person. He just...you...don't waste your anger on him Teddy, he doesn't deserve it."

The night had been one of the best he'd ever recalled up until now, especially since Hermione had been wearing well...the least conservative attire he'd ever seen her don. But the moment he saw that she was sad it brought all his happiness crashing down into the pavement, and right nothing mattered to him except Hermione, and her pain.

"I can't help it, Hermione. He hurt you. That's unforgivable."

None of them spoke on the walk back through the crowds to the Floo.


	3. Paris

The small English delegation found themselves much more subdued the next day. Hermione worked through the morning in her guestroom, opening her door only to retrieve the coffee and prep notes Teddy prepared for her. Readying to the leave the manor for a brief social brunch at the ministry, she'd found out that Draco had Floo'd home to breakfast with Astoria, and lamented she'd been too busy to see her kids similarly. Teddy, meanwhile, laid bored on the couch, nonchalantly accompanying Jean-Paul Delacour as the older French wizard watched what appeared to be an aged replay of the Tour de France.

"That's where Beauxbatons is, right?"

"Oui," the older man answered happily in his accented English. "Ze Pyrenees are beautiful, you must tell Ms. Granger to take you there on the way to Salamanca."

"We'll be Floo'ing," Teddy answered, noticing her arrival downstairs. He smiled at her innocently, as if trying to reaffirm his words of encouragement to her the past night. "Glad to know though, rumors are they'll have the Triwizard Tournament there in a few years."

"I've heard zee rumors too. You veel be in your seventh year then, no?"

"Oui," Teddy answered with a grin, "believe so."

"You don't have to come to the ministry today, Teddy," she said. "Not a serious meeting today, more of an optional meet and greet sort of thing, after yesterday's formalities." She looked over at Monsieur Delacour, still engrossed in the replay of a decade old bike race. "There's a Quidditch pitch not too far from the ministry, I'm sure you'd probably prefer to get some flying in instead."

"My head's gonna hurt regardless. Might as well get credit from the boss lady for it." Of course, tempting as her offer was, he'd rather tag along with Hermione wherever she went, all his enthusiasm for his school term hobbies subdued in her presence, unless he ever had the opportunity to show off in front of her, of course.

"It's a valuable lesson to learn, the consequences of drinking too much wine. But let's not tell Harry this particular detail of your progress, shall we?"

Frowning, Teddy summoned his MagicPad. "I looked it up this morning on WikiSpells, there's ones that cure hangovers. I'd need your permission to try them out, of course."

_Merlin, I wish I had that kind of technology at my fingertips back in school._

"The suffering is part of the lesson," Hermione said reluctantly. She truly did not want Teddy to suffer and would agree to the boy's request, except it would not look great for her if the ministry bureaucrats found out that her fifteen year old charge used a hangover spell while under her watch.

Teddy signed sadly. "Thought you'd say that."

Great, now he probably thought she was being mean for the sake of being mean, like Professor Snape. Hermione had expected him to fight her on it, or keep pressing her. Instead, he was living exactly up to his repute as the perfectly obedient young student on the way to being named Head Boy. Now she pitied him, that she and Draco could cure their self-inflicted ills with magic, while Teddy had to continue suffering.

The witch nee diplomat looked at the clock. Still some time to spare. "I'll brew you a lemon ginger tea. Some Muggles say it helps."

"Un hamburger would help," Jean-Paul chimed in from the living room.

Remembering that, Hermione had a plate of burger sliders delivered to the reception, which ended up as dull as she'd expected, to the point where she was actually glad when Morgan showed up wearing a ridiculous American cowboy hat atop his robes.

"Mah Sunday best," he said, tipping the hat in her direction, and what she swore was a rather atrocious wink. "Ah hope you don't mind the breach of etiquette, Miz Granger."

"Missus," she insisted. With most people she preferred that they no longer thought of her as attached to Ron, especially the few friends who thought, or even hoped, that she'd somehow _just get over_ his affair and get back together, _for the sake of the kids,_ she could hear Molly's voice in her head. But when it came to 'Cowboy Rick', Hermione was not looking forward to diplomatically warding off the amorous attentions of the portly Texan through the rest of the duration of the Tour de World, as Teddy had jokingly called the whole thing on the walk to the conference room.

Like Draco, most of the delegates had elected to take the day off, Hermione noticed. Which meant there were few skirts which she could use to distract the old Cowboy away from her personal space.

"Feeling better," she asked, as Teddy eagerly chewed one of the small burgers she'd summoned for his sake.

"Much better," he mumbled, mouth full. "Thanks for this. Glad I got ahold of one before Mr. Morgan got here."

Hermione's eyes bulged. The middle-aged man had somehow managed to fit more than half a dozen of the sliders on the small appetizer plate. She and Teddy looked at each other, both stifling their laughter out of discretion. Looking around the room again, she didn't see Mr. Sharma either. He'd been a difficult obstacle for her in the earlier stages her of grand initiative, but the Indian wizard's eventual, if begrudging support had allowed her to count on a coalition of smaller Asian countries to rebut the China-Russia bloc, though even at this stage Hermione would have liked more vocal and open reassurance from the man, that his country would not bow out of the accords at the last minute.

Perhaps the low attendance was all for the better. Despite blasting away her hangover first thing in the morning, she still did not feel her best, and was content to stand back and watch the rest of the delegates engage in small-talk without participating in it herself. Next to her, stomach now full, Teddy seemed to regain some of his youthful energy.

"Anyone you'd like me to speak to, Hermione, and get the goods on?"

Hermione looked over on the far corner of the room, spying Mr. Chou in a rather engaging conversation with one of the Kenyan wizards. That's troubling, she thought.

"Mr. Chou over there," she pointed, "he's quiet, and I doubt you'll get much out of him. But with any luck he might underestimate you, let something slip."

"Got it, boss!"

"Wait!" With startlingly fast reflexes she grabbed Teddy's wrist and pulled him back towards her. "Don't look," she whispered into his ear, "old Cowboy's coming our way. Stay here with me, pretend we're talking about something really, really important."

Without any need for further prompting, Teddy burst out in gregarious laughter. "I can't believe it, Hermione," he gasped, seemingly out of breath. "I can't believe you took Harry out to a, to a _gentlemen's club_ for his Stag party! Aunt Ginny would flip if she ever found out!"

"That's why you will never tell this to Aunt Ginny," Hermione said through clenched teeth. This was not exactly the topic of conservation she would've had him bring up, especially in front of the Texan, but she had no choice but to play along, while wondering in the back of her head just how Teddy knew about that little secret? Whose lips had been loose? She'd guess George, or Ron, because she doubted Harry would ever broach such a topic to his godson, unless he happened to overhear something?

"My lips are sealed," he promised her, eyes dancing, delighting in her discomfort far more than he deserved, "I promise."

"Miz Granger." Godric, she could smell his foul breath. "Tommy."

Reluctantly, Hermione switched her attentions to her American colleague. "It's Teddy," she corrected him crossly.

"Right, right. Boy knows the Potters, does he?"

He spoke as if the so-called boy wasn't standing right in front of him, and Teddy bit his tongue angrily, if only for Hermione's sake.

"Edward is Harry godson, actually. Apparently you're not all that familiar with the history of our war, Mr. Morgan, but that's exactly why we need these accords signed, don't we? So that we no longer float around in our insular national vacuums, ignorant to the struggles of wizarding communities on distant shores, so that never again will one country have to stand alone against such powerful dark foes, much less a small handful of children."

The bald Texan chuckled, finally deigning to look at her young assistant. "Girl gives quite a speech, hmm?"

This time it was Hermione's turn to bite her tongue, and remind herself that the man acted quite condescending towards everyone, even Igor and Chou.

"She's not just the brightest wizard or witch of her age, she's the brightest of any age," Teddy merely asserted, obviously indignant at cowboy's manners towards the both of them.

"I'll bet," Morgan said in a predatory tone that made both of them uncomfortable. "Sounds like a fascinatin' story, Miz Granger. Perhaps you'll regale me the full tale tonight? Over dinna'?"

 _Draco_ , she cursed him inwardly, _you pick the worst day to leave me hanging._ "I'd love to, Mr. Morgan..."

"Call me Rick, please, mah friends call me Rick..."

"...but unfortunately I have plans." Plans, she needed a plan. Now she cursed herself, her reputedly great mind had picked the worst time to fail her. "With Teddy, we were going to..."

Seeing her faltering, a rare sight indeed, Teddy thought, he hastily stepped in. "We were going to watch Game of Thrones tonight with the Delacours, Mr. Morgan."

"Pardon me now?" The man did not seem happy at all at his interruption, or the fact that the object of his affections would choose a teenager over the pleasure of a date with such a prominent wizard and magnate such as himself.

"It's a Muggle television show," Teddy explained. "An American one actually, I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, sir."

"It's based on a book series," Hermione continued, regaining her composure. "I believe the author resides in New Mexico, that's right next to your state of Texas, yes."

"Ah, New Mexico, yes..." This time it was Morgan's turn to appeared flustered. Apparently he hadn't expected the possibility of rejection by the witch, as if he ever stood a chance with someone as wonderful as Hermione, Teddy thought. Not that he himself did, but definitely not the Cowboy, he wanted to vomit at the very thought. Smarting, even stunned by the refusal, Rick Morgan stumbled away towards the elf server, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief together.

"I didn't know you watched Thrones," Hermione said as she led him away towards a quieter section of the room. After that unpleasant encounter she just wanted to slink away, go back to her room at the Delacours, and take a long nap until the Muggle show began.

"I wouldn't have guessed you'd even heard of it," Teddy mused, delighted that he and the brilliant Under-Secretary shared at least one guilty pleasure in common. "Doesn't seem like your kind of thing."

"Ron and I used to watch it, after we put the kids to bed..." Slowly her voice faded, and tears threatened to break through her carefully crafted composure again. She needed to stop doing this, stop feeling like this every time she inevitably recalled Ron in one manner or another. Or just get over him in the deepest corners of her heart, though that was much easier said than done. "Besides, the actress playing Lady Stark reminds me of my mother..."

Wait a minute, how had she let him turn the tables on her? "Aren't you way too young to watch a program like that, Teddy?"

"Hogsmeade. One of Aberforth's barmen plays it for us in the spare rooms on Sundays. For a price of course." Hermione seemed none too pleased with this nugget of information, Merlin he should've lied and made something up. "Probably shouldn't have told you that."

"I'll try and pretend I never heard this from you," Hermione said quietly, though not entirely convinced by her promise. "I can't promise though. There's plenty of people in the ministry I'm sorely tempted to give an earful about this."

"Shit. Knew I should've kept my big mouth shut. Merlin Hermione, I love ya and all, but you're kind of a natural born narc." He resisted the urge to utter worse curses in front of her. "They're all going to hate me if I'm the one who blew the show for everyone."

"Narc?" Narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, the older woman glared sternly at her assistant. "What exactly does that mean, Edward Remus Lupin? Are you calling me some kind of narcotic, is that how you kids insult each other these days?"

Or was he saying she was like a drug to him, Merlin forbid, was this how kids flirted with each other in Hogwarts now?

"It's nothing bad like you think," he stuttered nervously, avoiding her eyes. "It's like, it's just, you'd be the kind in class to tell the teacher about things, remind them when there's homework due, or when someone cheats..."

"A tattletale, you mean?"

Teddy glared at her, befuddled, before realizing. "Ah, right, that's probably what you lot called it back in your day."

This time it was her turn to be flustered again. Never in recent memory had she felt so old. _Harry's conspiracy theories of a crush be damned, he must see me as ancient as we thought Professor McGonagall was._

"Back in my day," she muttered, repeating the offensive words. "I'll tell you what was in style back in my day."

"Winning a war and defeating the Dark Lord himself?" Sensing that Hermione was peeved, and that he'd crossed some invisible line of propriety, Teddy hurried changed his tone apologetically. He'd been enjoying himself, teasing her and getting an reaction out of her, but he felt his heart sinking the moment she actually became cross with him.

Hermione sighed. She did have some sway over the kid, that was obvious. Maybe Harry was right about the crush thing, or maybe Teddy was just an extraordinarily meek and well-behaved young man. Or a sociopathic suckup. Hermione was inclined towards the first scenario, and honestly would have found the whole concept cute, even amusing, were the object of his infatuation anyone other than her. Fleur, for example. Or Ginny, Merlin, she'd tease Harry endlessly about that. But herself? That was just so wrong in every which way imaginable.

* * *

Draco had returned by the time they Floo'd back to Delacour manor, where they found him engrossed in an intense discussion with Jean-Paul over magical banking procedures, out of all things.

"How boring," Teddy began to whisper to Hermione, before realizing that the brilliant woman would probably find such topics fascinating. How many times had he offended her already today, felt like at least a dozen by now.

"I've never cared much for financial matters," she said, assuring him. "Cowboy gives his regards," Hermione said to the two, who interrupted their conversation to greet them.

"Hermione," Apolline said warmly, "come, I pour you wine, join us."

"I'd love to Mrs. Delacour," Hermione said awkwardly. "But Teddy and I kind of have, well, plans for tonight."

"Plans," Draco questioned, one eyebrow cocked impossibly high in the air. "You planning on corrupting my cousin, Granger?"

"Get your imagination out of the gutter, Malfoy. We're going to watch the new episode of Thrones." She looked around the room apologetically. Perhaps the Delacours enjoyed the show as well, she'd love for all of them to watch together, but eyeing the blank faces and French newschannel droning on in the background, she doubted that possibility.

"Le Trône de fer," Teddy said proudly, translating the name of the show into French.

"Ah, Trône," Jean-Paul said, apparently recognizing the show. "I've heard of eet, eet's ze show veeth all ze Muggle, eh, how you say, ze dragons, no?"

"Exactly," Teddy added enthusiastically, "three of them, actually!"

Draco seemed more skeptical of the concept. "Muggle dragons. What an absurd idea! Why watch some stupid show about them when you've seen the real thing? Or ridden them in your case, Granger?"

"It's more than just dragons," Hermione protested. "Lots of politics, and intrigue, and..."

"Very sexy, I've heard," Jean-Paul added unhelpfully. "Beautiful girls showing their..." He cupped two palms over his imaginary breasts, and Hermione wanted to sink into the floor.

"Ah, so you are corrupting him, Granger..."

"For the record, I don't approve of someone as young as Teddy watching the show," Hermione asserted, ignoring the pink hair and sad puppy dog looks which just broke out on said teenager's face. "But he's been watching it regardless of my opinions on the matter, and it wouldn't do to miss out on it now. Come on, Teddy, else we'll miss the intro already."

"Sorry," Teddy shrugged, especially to the Delacours, "love to stay and chat, but when boss lady commands, I obey."

* * *

"Oh. That was something."

Teddy's jaw hung halfway down towards his chest, eyes too fixated upon the silent screen to notice the tears already streaming down Hermione's face.

"I can't believe they just...I mean, they just killed _everyone_." His voice was hollow, eyes blank. "What the fuck? I mean, pardon my language, but what the fuck?"

It was only when she did not scold him for his swearing that Teddy finally turned his attention to Hermione, who was now weeping softly, same as she had in the cafe the last night. It made him sad, seeing Hermione crying, though his eyes felt a bit swollen as well, as he was far from being unaffected by the bloody events which had just played out on screen.

"I'm sorry, Teddy," Hermione said in between gasps. "I don't mean to be like this, I'm sure you didn't imagine wasting your summer with an old woman who can't control her tear ducts."

"It's okay, Hermione. You don't need to apologize. There's no one else I'd rather spend my summer with, tears or not."

His eyes were wet now too. Scenes from that bloody wedding replaying in his mind, he couldn't help but recall his grandmother's funeral, and be reminded of that feeling, like he was stranded in a bottomless pit, in darkness forever. He'd never see his 'nana again, never sit by the fire and listen to her tell stories of her childhood, happier memories with Draco's mother when they were girls. What wisdom could she have imparted him, about school, and life...and how to impress someone like Hermione even, if he could've ever worked up the courage to confess to 'nana his true feelings about his godfather's best friend.

"It's just, I really loved Lady Catelyn, Teddy. I know she's just a fictional character, but she reminds me of my mother in so many ways, and I think about when I had to obliviate their memories...what if we hadn't won the war, what if we hadn't survived? The thought that I'd be dead, and mum and father might go the rest of their lives without knowing I'd died, without knowing I'd ever existed..."

Or Rose and Hugo. It'd been one thing to have to obliviate her parents during the war. Now that she was a mother, the thought of her children doing the same to her, however necessary it might be...

"You did win the war." Without thinking, he threw his arm chastely around the older woman to comfort her. It was not a sexual thing at all, for once the last thing on his mind at the moment was how much his body ached for Hermione anytime she was nearby. (Or not.) Almost instinctively, she fell into his tentative embrace, resting her head against his shoulder, small nose still sniffling.

"I just, I need to get myself together," she moaned softly. "It's like I'm pregnant, except I can't even use that as an excuse, Morgana knows I haven't been la...I mean, that'd just be impossible."

Suddenly aware of her surroundings again, Hermione pulled slowly away from Teddy, feeling guilty that she'd imposed herself so heavily upon the young man. _The last thing he needs is to be the one babysitting an emotional old spinster._

Teddy rose to leave. The only other television set had been located in Hermione's room in the mansion. She'd only occupied it for two days, and already he'd noticed the moment he'd entered the scent of everything about her in the room. The prospect of spending an hour together with her, alone, sitting on the bed together and partaking in something they both immensely enjoyed, had been as exhilarating as he'd imagined it to be, until that incredibly bloody ending of the episode. Now just as quickly, his imaginary honeymoon was over, and Teddy sensed that Hermione needed to be alone. Well, not alone per se, she needed someone to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her how wonderful and amazing and strong and beautiful she was, but that wasn't his role, no matter how much he wished it were.

"I'm sorry you feel this way, Hermione," he told her by the door. "I wish it were different, I wish I could do more to help you feel better, other than just the coffee..."

She smiled at him, though he could tell that it was forced. "You're doing great, Teddy. You're doing a tremendous job, and I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry for ruining everything for you, having your summer spoiled by a cranky old woman."

_How many times can I tell you that you don't need to apologize to anyone? Especially to me?_

"You're not old Hermione. You're be..."

He stopped himself just in time, heart palpitating uncontrollably by the time he reached his room.

* * *

The rest of their week in France was mostly uneventful. There were no more outbursts from Hermione, thought that concerned Teddy, as clearly the woman had some issues she needed to work through; any mate in school knew that bottling them all inside was not good for one's mental health, brightest witch of the age or not. Regardless, the Undersecretary had been all business since Sunday night, impeccably maneuvering her way through the conferences as they got more and more complex.

Each day's range of topics discussed in Reims became increasingly arcane in some ways to Teddy, yet interesting in others. There were long digressions into international magical laws where he zoned out for half an hour at a time, and hoped that Hermione would not notice too much the mental absences in his notes. Other times, the controversies discussed were distressingly familiar.

He'd been surprised to find out that Cowboy Morgan was actually something of a blood purist, though not as bad as the Death Eaters who'd murdered his parents. Teddy would have expected more tolerance from their wayward cousins across the ocean, and Hermione assured him that Morgan remained in the minority of MACUSA, though not as comfortably as she would have liked. Apparently he ran a separate academy restricted to purebloods in the hills of rural Pennsylvania, and the main reason for his attendance was to push for the rights of such private pure-blood academies, which Hermione and her allies were keen to restrict, though they lacked the power and consensus to ban them outright.

"...and Chou and Ustinov wants the coalition to look the other way when they persecute their so called undesirables once every few years," Hermione explained to Teddy, as she led him and Draco on a walking tour of the small city. "Except," she confided, "more than one person's told me that what they'd really push for, if they could, is for the coalition wizards to actually _help_ them with their purges, all in the name of defending against the so-called Dark Arts."

"It's not a bad idea," Draco muttered quietly on the side.

"Shush Malfoy," the Undersecretary commanded authoritatively, "if people like Igor Ustinov and the politicians he served had their way, your family would've been wiped out twice over in the last forty years."

The older man sneaked an impish grin at Teddy. "You see Lupin, it's so easy to rile her up."

The Undersecretary coughed impatiently, as they approached an impressive looking cathedral at the center of town.

"This is where the Muggle kings used to be crowned, right?" He'd done his research, hoping that his knowledge would impress Hermione, especially when it came to Muggle stuff. She seemed to approve.

"Right, beginning with Clovis the First."

"There's no magical wing or sector of the building," Teddy asked, squinting his eyes and expanding his senses to try and answer his own question, but Hermione shook his head, while Draco looked around bored, scouting out their confines for a passable cafe for lunch.

"Charlemagne's old Muggle palace in Aachen no longer exists, but his magical one does. Most people don't know too, in honor of his Muggle predecessor Clovis, Charlemagne had the first French magical academy built on this site, though it stood for less than a hundred years. Nevertheless, such history is why the French Ministry remains here in Reims, rather than Paris or elsewhere."

"Charlemagne was a magician?" He'd never learned that in Hogwarts, but then he'd never cared much about history. Not until he'd learned that it could impress Hermione, anyhow.

The older witch nodded eagerly. "Many of the records from those days were permanently destroyed during the Rebellion of 899, when the long ranging implications from Charlemagne's death caused crises in the magical and Muggle worlds alike. But there has been much evidence uncovered that suggests that both Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin and, indeed, all of Hogwarts' founders, may have studied under his tutelage. He did some very good things. Very bad things too. Either way, ultimately all of us might be standing in the shadow of his legacy today, one way or another."

Merlin, she was so beautiful when she was passionate about something.

"Speaking of shadows," Draco said, interrupting his reverie, "that table with the nice umbrella just opened up."

There had been no more late nights of just the three of them, as dinners during the week required Hermione to hobnob with all her fellow conference attendees, including a dreadful night spent in the company of the Cowboy the past Monday. Mostly Teddy sat quietly and let Hermione and Draco do their thing, enjoying the fanciful meals night after night unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life, with the occasional pours of wine and once, a shot of whiskey Draco snuck over to him when they'd both thought no one else was looking. (They both heard an earful from Hermione later that night.)

It seemed that Hermione was the exception amongst her colleagues in her appreciation for the Muggle world. All the social dinners were taken in magical establishments, so Hermione insisted that they spent their lunch breaks be spent in Muggle habitats. Though he was no pure-blood, Hermione nevertheless wanted to further instill much her and Harry's values into his upbringing, something he didn't mind at all. Especially if she was the one doing it.

"So do you think Morgan might have been the kind to join the Death Eaters, if he'd been British during the war," Teddy asked as they ate. He could speak freely here, as he'd found that Draco was an unlikely fan of street food, thus there weren't likely that many wizards or witches at the hole in the wall restaurant they were dining at.

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "But I don't think so. Pete tells me that the American wizards have...how does he word it, a 'let and let live attitude' when it comes to their bigotry. It's a big enough country I guess, and the pureblood snobs can gather in their own circles and not bother the rest of the community, and vice versa."

Pete was Peter Torrey, the Vice President of the American Magical Congress and the highest ranking Yankee at their conferences.

A strange buzzing sound permeating their table. To their surprise, it was Hermione who reached into her purse and pulled out a Muggle phone. Most of them kept one around just in case, even Draco, but rarely did any of them use it except in the most dire of emergencies.

"What was that," Draco asked contemptuously. "Merlin, was that a Muggle text, Granger? You use Muggle texts? And who would be Muggle texting you, out of all people?"

"It's an Owl Message actually," she answered, unperturbed.

"An owl message," they both asked her.

The witch nodded proudly. "I invented a spell to translate letters and Howlers into Muggle text messages whenever I'm in a Muggle setting." She frowned. "It's Harry, he says it's about...that it's urgent, and he wants to meet now."

This was odd. Why would Harry need to see Hermione, and not him? Was this ministry stuff? Voldemort stuff, maybe? Next to Teddy, Draco glanced at his watch.

"You've more than half an hour till the next meeting, Granger."

"There's an inn you can meet him at a block away," Teddy recalled. "I'll have them box up your leftovers so you can finish your lunch when you get back."

"Thank you Draco, Teddy," she said sincerely, before hurrying off without another word.

"What do you think that's about," Teddy asked after she'd left, worried about her. Draco seemed less concerned.

"Potter's probably finally found some piece of evidence he thinks is gonna land me in Azkaban for life, no doubt."

"Well obviously you had it coming then," he japed with a laugh, though he noticed Draco seemed a bit on edge as well, his eyes drifting awkwardly away as they always did when confronted with one of Hermione's more 'personal' problems.

"Ron," he whispered to himself. "What's he done now?"


	4. Salamanca

Two days spent in Salamanca and Teddy Lupin was already convinced that the Spanish city was absolutely his favorite city in all the world. The food in France, while some of it he'd found delightful, other of the plates had been a bit too...exotic for his tastes. Hermione had casually commented, when he'd winced while sampling one of the more pungent of the cheeses they'd be served, that his palette had yet to mature enough to appreciate the cuisine: a lighthearted remark on her part, but one which sent him down into a funk for the better part of a day.

Now, he didn't know how he'd went through fifteen years in life without ever trying paella, which they served in much healthier portions than the last country. And the tapas, the colorful portions were small but endless, each striking a different note upon his taste buds. And the sangria, that was wine! So much better than that sour French cough medicine!

"Immature palette my ass," he'd jibed at Hermione at dinner their first night in Spain, when she'd finally managed to persuade a few of her colleagues, of varying degrees of pleasantness, in partaking in one of the highly touted Muggle restaurants near the city's sublime center plaza. Teddy picked up with his fork a small chunk of, well, he had no clue what it was, especially it looked and smelled fantastic. "Would you not call this sophisticated?"

"Si," Guillermo nodded, his pencil thin mustache bristling with pleasure on that balmy dark night, "pulpo. Muy fancy."

"That's me," he said proudly, popping the morsel into his mouth. The texture was a bit odd, but the savory, spicy flavors which followed quickly made up for it. "Fancy Teddy Lupin, that's what the call me at Hogwarts, you know." Whoops, not a good idea to remind Hermione he was still in school, but too late now.

The woman of his dreams gulped down a laugh. "Do you even know what pulpo is, Teddy?" He looked at her suspiciously, not liking her tone. "Boiled octopus."

He nearly choked as his hair turned a deep shade of purple, and all the grown ups at the table shared a laugh at his expense, to Teddy's chagrin.

Their host tapped his small fingers over Hermione's wrist. "You were right about coming here, Senora Granger," Guillermo Sanchez said, his face way to close to the Undersecretary's for Teddy's comfort, "I don't think your assistant would be able to stomach any of the magical tapas if we went where Senor Cowboy wanted to go."

"We're slowly and carefully expanding Teddy's palette," Hermione said kindly, yet not without the hint of condescension all adults seemed to speak with when talking down to those who weren't on their level. She pointed towards his empty plate of paella. "Look, we got him to willingly try prawns and scallops tonight, I'd consider that progress to be unprecedented."

"Wait till we bring you to Texas, boy," Rick Morgan chuckled, spit flying out of his mouth. The Cowboy clapped his back too roughly for Teddy's measure, while he rued the moment the portly Texan had pulled up a chair next to him. "None 'o this weird seafood shit, just steak an' brisket as big as yer face, an' mashed potaters to last fer days..."

"I hope the veggie options are just as appetizing," Sunil Sharma said from across the table, enjoying a small rice and potato dish separate from the rest of the group. "In Texas, and upstairs," he said, gesturing his head towards the magical floor of the restaurant.

The witch shared a hidden glance first with Sunil, then both of them towards Guillermo before quickly returning their gaze to the food at hand. While she considered herself fairly open minded on most Muggle cuisine, the practices of the more exotic magical fares offered in some of their venues left Hermione uneasy in many ways. Some of the tapas and other plates being served in many magical establishments came from creatures that, though agreed upon by international magical standards, the brilliant witch considered perhaps too sentient and intelligent for her conscience to dine upon.

She also knew that Sunil shared such concerns too, but at least most of the places she'd heard of were above board, in Europe at least. There were whispers however, of more underground markets, where a wealthy diner might even be served such entrees as dragon meat, and as much as Hermione did not care for the Cowboy, she doubted that his ample vices included the habit of slaughtering and dining upon magical creatures. Still, one never knew. Maybe he merely preferred his Mermaids deep-fried.

"While I do appreciate Mr. Morgan's sentiment," Hermione said with a smile, "I'm afraid that Texas is not and will not be added to our itinerary."

"We've got the break after Vegas," Rick interjected. "Yer all welcome to spend it at mah ranch in the Panhandle. Over a thousand acres, an' it's even got it's own canyon. Truly God's country, it is."

Though Morgan had invited the entire table, Teddy did not appreciate the fact that he'd stared at Hermione the entire time when extending his offer.

"Sounds tempting, Granger," Draco said with curled lips, delighting in his colleague's discomfort. Mostly his cousin remained quiet, shy even, when in the company of others outside their small circle, unless there ever arose the opportunity to torment his former Hogwarts enemy.

"Ah apologize, Mister Morgan," Teddy interjected, mimicking as best he could the man's Texan accent, "but mah mistress Hermione has dule-ly informed me that she plans to spend the entire-re-ty of her days off no-where else but ab-sole-lute-tely glued to the blackjack tables."

His efforts drew a raucous round of laughter from everyone, including Hermione, which warmed his heart.

"Teddy Lupin, you are a first! Rate! Prat!" She playfully slapped him, feigning indignation, and he thought he might never wash his face again.

"First rate," he responded without skipping a beat, feeling the sangria flowing through his veins. "Do you know that's the highest praise she's given me since I've started working for her?"

This drew another round of laughs, especially from Draco, and the teenager found that he was genuinely enjoying himself, even with the cowboy seated next to him. It was all a show, he'd learned in his first week, and each and every one of them a skilled performer, even Hermione. Especially Hermione. Did it make Ron jealous, he'd wondered, that she'd meet so many sophisticated, rich, and intelligent wizards from all around the world? It certainly made him jealous, even though he had no right to be.

"You know that's a lie," she replied, and he thought she looked slightly embarrassed. Had he unintentionally impugned her professional reputation and insinuated that she was a shrew and a martinet? He never meant to do such a thing. Fortunately, her next words more than soothed his nerves. "Teddy is a bright and promising young boy and the most perfect assistant any witch or wizard could ask for."

She stared him straight in the eye as she complimented him, and for a long moment Teddy forgot the levity and remembered just how much he loved his woman. Unfortunately, someone else caught him staring as well.

"Si," Guillermo said, narrowing his eyes at the two of them, "don't we all wish for one of these eh...specimens, a _perfectly_ young and bonita assistant willing to obey our every wish and command?"

Hermione tensed, then Teddy once he understood the man's meaning two seconds later, and he did not even want to know what color his hair was at the moment. Surprisingly, Draco joined Sunil in turning towards the Spaniard to admonish him.

"Mr. Sanchez..."

"Senor..."

But Teddy spoke first. " _Perfect_?" He sneered. "Senor Guillermo, please remind Senora Granger just how _perfecto_ I am, next time I forget she prefers her notes sorted by date _and then_ alphabetically, not the opposite!"

"Yes, we all know Hufflepuffs are the slowest learners, don't we?" An assist from Draco, all the tension disappeared, and the rest of the night proved just as enjoyable, ending when the occasionally offensive Spaniard escorted them to their hotel, the ten minute walk a pleasant experience on a perfectly mild and balmy night with some of his favorite people.

Their five star hotel was his first time in such an establishment, their plush accommodations magic for the duration of this stay. The hotel elves greeted them in Spanish, Hermione politely turned down Guillermo's offer of one last drink in the lobby lounge, and the magic lift took them up to the sixth floor much quicker than its Muggle counterparts could. Draco's room came first.

"Nice going Teddy," he complimented him before stepping inside. "You were smooth tonight."

"Thanks cuz."

"He's right," Hermione said as they continued side by side down the plush, red carpeted hallway, the tip of her elbow tantalizingly close to the tip of his elbow. "You're a natural at this, Teddy. Maybe you should consider a career in the ministry after Hogwarts."

"I'd love to," he said with a smile, "as long as I can keep my current position working for the most genius witch of her generation." He frowned. "Does Guillermo bother you a lot like that?"

"Guillermo gets a bit...risque, after he's had a few drinks," she said, stifling a giggle. The boy was cute when jealous. "But he's harmless, he doesn't mean anything by it."

"Not like the Cowboy."

"No." But enough about the Texan. "But yes, to answer your question. I'd be lucky to have you, anytime."

He'd take her word for it. Too soon they arrived at his room, and after exchanging good nights, and a brief hug (too brief for Teddy), Hermione entered her quarters and promptly burst out into the tears the moment she'd shut the doors. Somehow she'd forced herself to hold it together in front of everyone else over the last few days, even as she felt like breaking apart every single minute since that meeting with Harry.

_"It's about Ron," he'd told her at once upon emerging from the Floo, repeating his message via the owl. "It's worse than we'd thought."_

_"In what way?" Obviously it had to be bad for Harry to travel all the way to France impromptu and on his lunch break. There were so many possibilities, and all of them were horrifying. Was there more women? Had he been under the spell of some curse, or was he claiming as such? Could her soon to be ex-husband have possibly taken his own life? Her breath caught with that last thought, and Hermione found herself surprised just how much she still cared for his well being, even if she never cared to be in the same room as Ron ever again (or allow her children to be, for the matter)._

_"Hermione..." He put both his hands on his shoulders, as if expecting her to collapse once he said what he'd come to say. "Before I begin...he's in a bad place right now, Hermione. Been there for awhile."_

_"I don't doubt that." There had been so many warning signs she had missed, until she'd seen that salacious front page story of Rita's in the Prophet, the pictures of Ron and that floozy bartender from that pub right down the street, on the way to the kids' school, for Merlin's sake, when everything had become so clear to her in the worst way._

_"I went to speak to him today, at his flat. He's in rough shape." Harry stared down at his feet. "He probably doesn't want me telling you this. Ginny said to wait too, until you got back. But you deserve to know."_

_"Know what?"_

_"There were hook...prostitutes, Hermione."_

_"When? How many? How often?" She let Harry hold her, even as her mind raced through all the awful implications. Did she need to get herself tested? Did he ever bring them around the kids? Merlin, had he ever brought one to their home? In their marriage bed?_

_"He said...he'd get one when he went on trips to, um, procure supplies for the store. Always on the road, always...he'd go to a pub wherever he was, get bloody drunk enough, I guess. To work up the courage to, to, to you know, cheat on you."_

_"How many times," she repeated to him. It didn't matter, once was once too many, but she still needed to know._

_"He didn't tell me exactly." She could feel Harry biting his lips nervously. "Less than ten, I think."_

_She drew away from Harry, and turned so she didn't have to look at her friend. Right now all she wanted to do was to escape. Where? Hermione wasn't sure. Not the conference, not back to Teddy and Draco, not the home where they'd shared so many happy memories over for nearly a decade. All she wanted to do was to find Hugo and Rose, swoop them away to somewhere far, far away from their father's family, away from everyone she'd known in her life..._

_"He said, he just felt down, I guess. Depressed, the Muggles call it. I think this long trip of yours...he was afraid of it, Hermione. All your career, how you've become this, this international globetrotting almost-celebrity diplomatic, I guess...the circles you move in, the people who see you as their equals...while all he has is the store, that's how he's been feeling, for some time now."_

_"Why didn't he tell me this?" Shock was slowly turning into rage, and directed towards Harry in Ron's absence. She felt her blood boiling, and knew that were she to relinquish even a little bit of control over her impulses, she was likely to do anything right now. Even point her wand at her best friend. "Why couldn't he have approached me, why couldn't have confided in me? His wife, the woman swore everything and promised the world to?!"_

_"I'm not trying to make excuses for him, Hermione," Harry answered softly. "None of this is your fault, you know we both know that. And they're not excuses, it's rubbish, it's a desperate clinging of a man who's fucked up and knows he's fucked up. But it's what he thinks, Hermione, and right or wrong, you deserve to know it."_

For the billionth time since that encounter Hermione wondered what to do about her children. They all assured her that they were fine in the Burrow, George, Harry, Fleur all told her how Molly was absolutely over her head mad at Ron and let everyone within earshot know it. But what was she whispering to Rose and Hugo when no one was watching, what if she couldn't even help herself, or didn't realize what she was doing? Would she imply to them, even if not explicitly, that their mother was not without fault, when she chose to pursue her career more than her marriage, or so Molly might believe? What if such statements were not entirely untrue?

The following days Hermione had Floo'd back to the Burrow whenever she could, sacrificing some of her morning briefings to see them before they went off to school, skipping lunch with Draco and Teddy, no matter how delightful their company had become, and also in the evenings between the work and the social dinners, afterwards too, if she returned at her room early enough. Every day it seemed like she was working off of less and less sleep, and Hermione wondered just how much longer she could keep this up. Things would only get worse once they crossed the Atlantic, what with the difference in time zones, and as much as she hated the thought, withdrawing altogether wasn't an option for her, not when tensions continued to rise between different factions by the day, not when previously agreed upon compromises seemed to fall all the more apart once all the delegates began reviewing the wording and implications inside the same room.

But what else she could do? Harry and Ginny couldn't take them in for the summer, that was why Teddy was with her in the first place. Fleur and Bill had agreed to take them for a few weeks, along with Victoire and her siblings, to see Charlie and the dragons in Romania. Though she wouldn't be able to visit them for that duration, it was a thankful reprieve from the standpoint of her work, but Hermione knew that their trip had been a last minute decision, done essentially as a huge favor for her, and asking anything more would be pushing it. Briefly she mused whether she might impose upon Draco, and foster the kids in Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer. Merlin forbid it could ever come to that!

"It's like he took it personally every time I went on a work trip," she found herself rambling over cocktails to Draco the next night, the last of their two spent in Spain, "like I'm crucio'ing him whenever I traveled, even though sometimes I was the one who got home first. Probably 'cause he was fucking some diseased whore in some seedy inn..."

Here she was, confiding to a Malfoy all her secrets and insecurities. Once upon a time she would have guessed there would be a better chance of Harry joining Voldemort, but for some reason such topics of conversation came easily with Malfoy. Maybe it was because he was an outsider, relative to Harry and Fleur and all the Weasley's, he came unbiased, and whether or not he judged her...well, she simply cared less either way what Draco thought.

"They're actually fairly clean."

"Are you," she raised her eyebrows at her colleague accusingly, "do you..."

"God no," Draco gasped. "Never, not once, swear to Salazar. But we deal with prostitution occasionally at Enforcement. Some of my colleagues may or may not partake occasionally, it's their personal life, not my place to judge. They all maintain though, the working girls they see usually get tested regularly, on average they're probably cleaner than your random lass at the pub."

"Lovely." His words offered her no assurance, and Hermione did not see her habits, since Harry's revelations, of showering at least twice a day and performing even more cleansing spells on herself ceasing anytime soon. With a swift gulp she finished her red drink and asked for another.

It was Friday night in Salamanca, and with the week...no, month she's had, she needed something strong, and requested as such from the server. Hermione could not exactly tell what she was drinking, except that it had _a lot_ of rum, and pineapple juice, and hints of peaches, pomegranate, and elderflower...but mostly rum. She had originally planned to take Teddy on a tour of the historic university in town, but seriously could not muster the energy after everything. Thankfully, one of Guillermo's assistants, a wisp of a girl named Elvira, was a student at the school, so Hermione called in a minor favor so that her teenage assistant wouldn't witness the sorry sight of his beloved Undersecretary getting absolutely obliterated.

"Maybe it's the Slytherin in me, but I think I might know exactly the cure for what ails ya."

"A perfectly placed hex at you-know-who's fat face?" She wasn't talking about the late Dark Lord.

"Revenge," Draco said evilly. "In kind."

"In kind?"

"Go get yourself laid, Granger."

She almost spit up her drink.

"I'm going to pretend that was the worst joke you've ever told, Malfoy!"

"I'm serious," the Slytherin insisted. "Look around you! We're in Salamanca on a Friday night, a stone's throw from the biggest university in the country, surrounded by strapping young Spanish boys who'd kill to have a go with you. Pick any one you fancy, I guarantee they won't dare turn you down, and go have the shag of your life, you deserve it, and you need it too."

As obscene as his words were, Draco was not wrong. The street boomed twenty times livelier now than when they'd first sat down and commenced their Hermione Granger pity party, now filled with hundreds of happily cavorting college kids without a care or burden in the world. For once Hermione rued her life, and wondered what it would've been like to grow up carefree, no war to worry about, no family to start for a long time, just to live free and flit about like these gallivanting kids, never having to worry about the now or the tomorrow.

Shrugging the slightly tempting thought away, Hermione returned her attentions to her fellow wizard. "You know I'm not a one night stand kind of girl, Draco. Don't think I can do it, even if old Voldy's pointing the Elder Wand at me, forcing me to bed some mindlessly and deliciously handsome Spanish boy."

Her former rival chuckled, before his eyes gave her a more evil squint than before. "Well, if you want someone more familiar to you, then why not Teddy?"

This time she did spit out her drink. Some of it landed on his shirt, and she did not feel bad about it at all.

"Have you gone mad, Malfoy? That is just...so wrong, on so many levels!"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way he looks at you," the Malfoy continued, unperturbed by her reaction, "the way he sticks up for you, the way he _sucks_ up to you any chance he gets?"

"I'm not blind no, nor am I an idiot, _of course_ I've noticed, Draco. But it's just a harmless crush, no different than you and Pansy back in the day."

This time it was Draco's turn to puff his chest indignantly. "There was nothing between me and Pansy."

"And there's _nothing_ between me and Teddy. Merlin, this is _your_ revenge, isn't it?"

"Revenge?" He looked confused.

"You have your way, Harry will kill me for corrupting his godson, Harry gets locked up in Azkaban for murdering a Undersecretary, however disgraced, and all you Malfoys all get the last laugh."

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Draco's gray eyes sparkled with excitement, as if tormenting her was the most exhilaration he'd felt since...well, since he'd tormented her and Harry and Ron (fucking Ron) back in Hogwarts. "Come on Granger," he continued to press, "there's got to be someone in these conferences you wouldn't mind fancying for a night. Or more than one night, if you insist."

"Well," she thought, there was no harm in just _contemplating_ , and nothing else. "Now that you do mention it, Sunil's not a bad chap at all."

"Ah Sharma," Draco replied gleefully, and she thought she could see him clasping his fingers together like a cartoon villain, "he's a looker now, hmm?"

"Tall, dark, handsome," she said, exaggerating the dreaminess of her voice. "Passionate about saving endangered creatures, what's not to like..."

"Hermione! Draco!"

A younger sounding voice echoed down the street, interrupting her musings.

"Teddy! I thought you were off touring the school with Elvira..."

"It's not that big of a school. So when we finished, Elvira said she was meeting her friends for some drinks, and invited me to come along..."

Friends indeed. Now that they'd approached, Hermione saw a small group of about a dozen chaps and gals, all close to Elvira's age. Two of them, very pretty and definitively female, had arms clasped around either side of Teddy, leading the blushing boy through the city, while Guillermo's assistant stood aside and watched the scene bemusedly. Which made sense, if Elvira fancied anyone in the British delegation, Hermione would've guessed herself, the Spanish girl's lusty glances at her through the day not entirely different from Teddy's...

"Oh look," Elvira said, pointing towards a large group next to her and Draco that were leaving for their next bar, "that table just opened up! Teddee, we should stay here and have many drinks with your uncle and boss senora."

Before she could say anything else, all the kids chose their seats next to them. Teddy's hair was its natural sandy brown, protected by spells in Muggle company, but the boy's face was blushing as red as she'd ever seen him.

"Sorry," he said to Hermione, having pulled up the chair closest to her, "we've been to a few spots already, got a bit carried away."

"Just don't tell Harry about any of this. I think we'd be in the same amount of trouble at this point..."

"Just how much had you had to drink," he whispered to her, " _Aunt_ Hermione?"

The aunt in name blushed. She'd inadvertently burped while admonishing Teddy just now, and felt more than sufficiently mortified and anything but dignified for the moment.

"As much as I want, I'm old enough and I'm a free woman!" She wasn't about to let her quasi-nephew do this to her, especially not in front of Draco. "Don't you dare turn the tables on me, Edward Remus Lupin! Just how old do these girls think you are anyhow?"

The last part she whispered quietly, for Teddy's sake, all the while struggling to keep a straight face. They both knew she wasn't seriously mad at him. It was Spain on a Friday night, after all. Surely Harry knew that time spent with in her company wasn't all just strict work and notes and no fun. Right?

"Old enough," Teddy maintained with a wink, "so long as they believe what Elvira told them, and certain _narcs_ here at this bar don't give it away..."

"Teddy!" The blonde girl seated to him interrupted them both. Though it was obvious she'd drunk as much as Teddy tonight, if not more, her clear blue eyes glared at Hermione with unrelenting hostility. "This is the old lady you told me you're interning for?"

"She's not old at all, Peyton!" It wasn't unexpected that Teddy would rush to her defense, but this occasion felt especially gratifying.

"Peyton, this is Undersecretary Granger of the British Embassy. Hermione, this is Peyton, she's studying at the university for a term here, but she's originally from America. Texas, in fact!"

"Texas," Draco smiled, having the time of his life watching both her and Teddy squirm. "We know someone from Texas. Pleasant chap."

"Ah'm from Austin, actually! Westlake High, home of the Chaparrals, best football team in the damned country, half the en-eff-el went t' mah school!" The blonde girl's smooth hands gripped at Teddy's arm, eager for him to remember his attentiveness towards her just minutes before.

"Peyton, hmm," Hermione commented with pursed lips. "That's an interesting name. I've never heard that one on a girl before."

"Mah daddy went to the Uni-versi-ty of Tenne-ssee with th' great Peyton Manning himself," the American girl said smugly in an accent not all that different from Cowboy Rick's. "Daady threw a fit when ah decided to go to A an' M, but that was actually b'fore they joined the Ess-Eee-Cee! Now he won't even look me in th' eye an'more...but fuck mah daddy, GO AGGIES, GIIIIIG 'EM, WOOOOOOO!" The girl ended her ramblings with some bizarre hand gesture.

"Fascinating," Hermione commented. It was not. Beside her, Teddy looked embarrassed for his new friend, or so she could only hope.

At that moment, Elvira walked up with an entire tray of drinks. As if she were a waitress, Guillermo's assistant served each of her friends, including what looked to be a coconut cocktail to Teddy, before pulling up a chair to sit at her and Draco's table, handing her companion a beer and Hermione what looked to be a rather expensive looking martini.

"Salud," the young Spanish woman cheered, and Hermione obligingly raised her newest glass of delightful poison politely, while the American girl finally succeeded in recapturing Teddy's attentions. So began another round of fending off advances, albeit much more pleasant ones compared to Cowboy Rick. Nor was Draco completely neglected, for the matter. Knowing her colleague's distaste for beer, she saw him about to leave them with his mug only a quarter drunk out of good manners, before one of the other Spanish girls pulled up a chair next to him.

Eventually, both their polite yet firm lack of interest dissuaded their most fetching suitors, and Draco yawned, long ready to leave. "Coming, Granger?"

"Just a minute, let me finish my drink." She had not much left in her second martini, and wondered how she could make the drink last just a little longer. Turning her head to her left, she saw Teddy deeply engrossed in conversation with the American girl, who was not so subtly rubbing his leg up and down with one spare hand, the other entwined and playing with his fingers. Somehow she'd expected to catch him sneaking a look at her like a little puppy dog, like he'd been wont to do all trip, but this night he was suitably distracted.

"Jealous," Draco whispered evilly in her ear.

"Just looking out for little Teddy. I don't much trust Texans, for obvious reasons."

"Yes, very obvious," he replied with a triumphant smirk. Before she could pull herself away, however, all of Teddy's table rose to leave.

"We're going to the park, Senora Granger," Elvira said to her, making a motion with her fingers and mouth, imitating like she was smoking and inhaling a cigarette. Or something stronger. "Would you like to join?"

Her eyes glanced over at Teddy, the blonde clutching at his hand tightly like a harpy, and resisted the urge to tell him to stay safe, be careful, or anything sounding too _motherly_. He shyly looked away from both her and the younger girl, blushing as he stumbled step to step, walking backwards as he still awaited her permission to take flight.

"Thank you for your offer, Ms. Gonzalez, but I'll see you in Marrakesh tomorrow."

Elvira sighed, obviously disappointed, but not overly so. Clearly the young student could easily snag another prospect tonight. "I'll make sure Teddy makes it there too," she said with a wink.

The Undersecretary for Foreign Magical Affairs returned to her hotel room ready cry herself to sleep again. She still felt like crying, but because she was so drunk, she would not remember in the morning that she had fallen asleep instead with a scowl upon her face.


	5. Marrakesh

It was another weekend, and most of the delegates had returned home for a few days rather than taking the Floo to the ornate villa and resort overlooking the city of Marrakesh from the dry foothills of the Atlas Mountains, towering above them to the south. From dry blue sky, the sun baked upon her skin, purging her of all the sins and poisons she'd drank into her body the previous night in Spain. Truly her wake up this morning had been absolutely brutal, the worst she'd felt, Hermione swore, since that night she'd been held captive by Bellatrix, or at least one of her pregnancies, but thankfully a morning dip in the hotel's infiniti pool, overlooking both city and wilderness atop a small, open incline, had been just the charm she'd needed to not feel like Voldemort after a destroyed horcrux.

Both because it was the weekend, and because the villa was not large enough to host all the delegates, most of the participants aside from the essentials would skip this phase for the tour. Draco had gone, and Hermione might have considered taking time off to see her kids, were they not ensconced in the wilds of Romania. She had originally thought to take Teddy on a tour of the city and its markets over the weekend, but figured that her young assistant was in no shape for such a venture either, having barely stumbled into their Salamancan hotel in the morning while she waited in line to buy her coffee. It was good, Hermione was thankful for the privacy, and looking forward to spending a day getting herself back together before yet another busy week ahead.

The infamous witch laid her exhausted body down on one of the pool chairs and dozed away for Merlin knew how long. When she woke a second time, Hermione looked around hazily, seeing her metamorphmagus assistant seated respectfully two chairs away from her.

"Sorry about this morning, boss," he said meekly to her.

"Don't worry about it," she replied crossly. "It's the weekend, you weren't on the clock."

"Still, you didn't look that great when I saw you in line this morning."

_Ouch, insult to injury._

"I mean, not that you didn't look good..."

"Point taken, Teddy," she interrupted curtly.

The laid in silence for a few awkward minutes, before Teddy broke it again.

"How's the water?"

"Comfortable."

Sensing she wasn't in the mood to converse, Hermione heard him leave his chair and, seconds later, jump into the pool. Lifting her arm from her eyes, the hungover witch watched the young man casually backstroke his way through several laps in the pool. Bored, the boy emerged from the water, and Hermione got a quick peek at his bare torso before hurriedly looking away. He was more muscular than she'd expected for someone his age, certainly more toned than Harry and Ron had been during their fifth year at Hogwarts, but then Hermione recalled hearing how the Quidditch players enjoyed these days using the Muggle weight training facilities they'd installed at Hogwarts in the years since her time there.

The teenager returned to her side with a towel clad securely over his upper body, oblivious to her curiosity towards his physique. And jealousy, Hermione thought, as he didn't know how lucky he was to have spent a week eating and drinking and still look none the worse for it whereby in contrast, she looked and felt as bloated as that aunt Harry had accidentally blown up in the Dursley house. Thankfully, the only swimwear she owned were rather conservative sets; Hermione felt especially relieved now not that her swimsuit was inappropriate for Harry's godson, but because it hid her shame from a week's worth of food and wine accumulated along her midsection.

"That felt good," Teddy said, a goofy look on his face and oblivious to her consternation. _So that's how he looks after he's been thoroughly ravished._ "Heard the resorts we'll be staying at in Las Vegas have floating pools thousands of feet in the air."

"You recovered quickly," she commented. Screw it, there was no point to wasting a day just because of a rough night before, especially in a country as fascinating in Morocco. "Go get dressed and showered," she ordered, "we're going to the city."

"Yes ma'am," he replied eagerly.

"And stop talking like Cowboy Rick."

* * *

Despite the rough start to her day, the rest of Hermione's afternoon was actually positively charming. First they went to a small cafe, where they sat in relaxed silence, sipping the delicious, spicy fare and, upon the recommendation of a fellow Brit tourist next to them, split a mint tea as well, while the flow of locals and tourists alike along the busy street somehow dwindled the agony in their bodies. The sun looked less intense by the time they'd finished, and Hermione felt alive for the first time since before sitting down with Draco for her first rum drink the prior evening. The air was much cooler as they wandered the small marketplaces lining the souks, getting lost in the endless alleyways lined with crafts and trinkets of the brightest colors.

"Hermione," she heard Teddy call out from behind her. She'd been so absorbed admiring some of the ornately woven silk rugs that she hadn't even noticed that she'd gone ahead of him. Soon he appeared into view, hands full with recently purchased items. "I got some gifts for you."

"Teddy," she gaped at him in shock as he handed her a gorgeous royal blue headscarf. "Why did you do that? You shouldn't have!"

"I wanted to," he maintained. "To make up for not getting your coffee this morning."

"That's just absurd," she blurted out, before he handed her yet another gift, a small, green leather handbag she had indeed admired minutes before when walking by the vendor's stand. "I mean it's just a coffee...and how much did you pay for all this? Did you even haggle?"

"Haggle?" The boy looked befuddled, and Hermione sighed.

"I'm going to have to talk to Harry about teaching you some common sense next year," the witch muttered.

"I love Harry, Hermione, but I think you've got him beat in the common sense department."

"Shhh, let's keep that between us for now," she raised a finger to her lips before looking back down at her gifts in dismay. "Teddy, I really...I can't take this. You should..."

"I should what?"

She'd been about to say that he should give them to the bleached blonde Texan girl he'd snogged last night, except she realized that there was no way she could say the words without sounding bitter or jealous. Not that she _was_ bitter or jealous, that would be absolutely absurd; more likely it was just that there was no way that Parley girl or whatever her name was could properly appreciate such wonderful gestures.

Another horrified thought occurred to her, that Teddy was getting her these gifts not for the trivial event of missing her morning coffee, but because he felt guilty over a meaningless shag with the Texan bimbo? Obviously there was no reason he should feel guilty for her sake, just like she had no reason to feel jealous for his Spanish tryst, she should've felt guilty, if anything, towards Harry for being too drunk to thwart the corruption of his godson.

"You need to promise two things." The younger wizard nodded eagerly, as Hermione banished all the confusing thoughts swirling through her head. "First, promise you won't buy me anything at the magical marketplace tomorrow."

"Promise."

"And second, you let me treat you tonight."

"Treat me? How?"

"You'll find out, when the time comes."

Without another word, she turned to continue walking, secretly enjoying the young man's obvious consternation at her obliquely tempting words.

* * *

Their resort for the weekend was a magical one, which now perfectly suited Hermione's plans. Her timing was less optimal however, though made easier because of the spells she could use to adapt to the situation.

"Wear my swimming trunks?"

Hermione nodded. "Drink some cold water too, they recommend that before a Hammam."

"A hammam?"

Apparently a hammam was a Turkish bath, sauna, and massage all combined into one and, considering his company, the epitome of all Teddy's hopes and dreams for the half decade or so. Personally he was not a fan of the hot steam room, but he made up for his discomfort by pretending to look Hermione in the eye while slurping up all the sights of his dream woman wearing a swimsuit in his peripheral vision. Her choice of attire was not at all revealing, and obviously the teenager wished for more, but Hermione's mostly modest choice of attire was ultimately what he would have expected out of her, and he was fine losing himself within the small freckles atop her formerly pale skin upon her chest, or sneaking a look every few minutes at her wonderfully full and creamy thighs.

"So, since this was last minute, all the massage rooms are all fully booked," Hermione broached delicately while she soaked in the humidity and surroundings, not wanting to give Teddy any untoward ideas, "except for the couples room. If you don't feel comfortable going in there with me, then there's no pressure, I assure you."

"Couples room?" He listened intently as the beautiful witch explained the concept of a couples' massage.

"...and we'll be in separate beds, they'll have towels the masseuses will work around, but it is standard protocol for both of us to be, ahem, fully unclothed under the towels."

"Unclothed." His jaw dropped in disbelief. "You mean, naked?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. "It's traditional, yes. But before you get any ideas Teddy, I'm going to teach you a disrobing spell. Once we're both fully covered under our towels, we can use it to temporarily, um, prepare ourselves for the massage." Observing the lusty, mischievous glint in his eyes, she waved her wand at him in a threatening manner. "Don't you dare, Lupin, else I _will_ report you to the ministry!"

"I wouldn't dare think it!" He did think it, even if that was all he dared.

The massage was heavenly and not as awkward as she'd feared, a splendid hour where she could close her eyes and know nothing else of existence except for the sensations from her masseuse using every technique, magic or Muggle, to beat down and push out every toxin and every bruise and ache within her muscles. Teddy appeared just as relaxed when they emerged from the baths, his eyes glazed over, his narrow frame almost stumbling several times leaving the baths. She felt similarly dazed, and though this was the first day in more than a week in which she did not have a drink (thank Merlin), Hermione felt dizzy, as if she'd consumed some of the country's more illicit plant based exports.

The night saw them both returning to where their day began, by the pool, witch and wizard basking in the afterglow of their pampering treatment. A full moon hung over the two of them, illuminating their plush surroundings, and Hermione could not help but recall an entirely different kind of night spent with Harry and Ron and Teddy's father, which had been the same night they'd first met Sirius Black. Before she could further reminisce, however, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing in the direction of the resort, and sound of heavy steps and heavier breathing. The Undersecretary turned to her assistant. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," as it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Before the Cowboy could bellow a word to greet them, she'd taken his hand, closed her eyes, and Apparated them a few thousand feet up atop the hill overlooking the resort, pool chairs and all.

"You're good," Teddy said to her deviously. "I can just picture the Cowboy looking for us down there. 'Well dawg gone it, ah swears I just saw them lyin' here just now, wishin' how they be from Tex'is too cuz tis just heaven on Earth gosh darn it! God's country, lit-ter-rally, Jesis Christ 'imself slaughters all mah cattles b'fore he Apperates 'em to th' slaughterhouse!"

Hermione giggled childishly.

"How do you do it, Teddy?"

"Do what?"

Her question confused him. His Cowboy Rick impression wasn't _that_ good. He'd rely upon it a lot less actually, if he could think of another more clever or intelligent way of making her laugh.

"I knew your parents, Teddy. Very well. I know I'm not the first to tell you this, but I mean it, from the bottom of my heart, they would be so proud of you. The way you've adapted all your life...to everything's that befallen you, including this job."

She could feel him beaming through the darkness in her direction.

"Thank you Hermione," he said almost inaudibly. "And for what it's worth, that really means a lot coming from you."

"And I mean it too," she added with emphasis. " You're charming, you're smart, you're hard-working...and you can keep up with the likes of Charlotte or Guillermo or hell, even Cowboy Rick. That's not common, you know, not just for children your age, but even R...some of the Weasleys, or Professor Longbottom, or quite a few of my colleagues in the ministry, not anyone can go ahead and meet dignitaries from around the world and compose themselves as you've done this trip."

He did not reply her immediately. She guessed that he did not expect that she would be so open in her praise for him, but it was what she believed, and he deserved her honestly. Sensing that she might have left him speechless, Hermione continued.

"So many of us are defined by who our parents are, or aren't. Both Dumbledore and Vold...Tom Riddle. Ron. Harry too. Harry especially. It took him a long time to come to terms with who he _was_ , as opposed to who he was supposed to be or expected to be."

"I'm not Harry, Hermione." She opened her eyes, and saw that he was staring intently at her, the moonlight reflecting off the light in his irises. "I mean that in, I'm not the Chosen One, I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived. My parents were heroes, yes, I know that, and I know they were wonderful people, and I know I would have absolutely loved them had they survived the war. It doesn't matter, I love them regardless. But...who I am...I guess, it's just who I am. I don't know anything else. I don't know what it's like to grow up with my mother and father rather than my grandmother because, well, Andromeda and Harry and you and Ginny are all I've ever known. All that matters really, is that you _are_ who you are, Harry is Harry, and 'nana's 'nana, because you sure _aren't_ the Dursleys, or Lucius, or Merope Gaunt for the matter."

She had to give him credit, the way he spoke about such subjects, it was clear that the young man was wiser and far more mature than his years, or at least could act as such rather brilliantly, in her opinion. And act or not, that made her proud, that she could perhaps count herself as having helped contributed in some small way to Teddy becoming the man he was today.

"Just don't get too full of yourself, Teddy," she laughed, hoping to lighten up the mood a bit, even though it had been her fault for making the moment all too serious to begin with. "I mean, I mean it when I say your parents would be proud of you, even though...they might not approve of every single one of your life choices. I mean, that gir...that young lady last night, Prancey was her name? Your father might laugh and clap his hands, I can see that, but your mother would probably slap you silly, but neither one of them...I think they'd tell you, what comes too easily, well..."

Sure enough, she'd ruined their previously delightful mood. He glanced at her in consternation.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?"

 _This was so awkward,_ except it was entirely her fault. But this was a teaching moment, and her intentions were good, weren't they?

_Weren't they?_

"I mean, do you plan on continuing to...keep in touch with her?"

"Merlin," he gasped, "did Elvira not tell you? I told her to tell you."

"Tell me what? I haven't seen her all day."

He looked away, and she could discern his blush and his hair turning beet red under the dim moonlight. "Nothing happened last night, between me and Peyton. I swear it."

She glared at him in surprise. "I saw you all leaving together. And you didn't return to the hotel until this morning..."

"We did...well, we did leave, we went to one more bar I think, then to the campus, and she did start to kiss me. And I, I wanted to kiss her back, but I just, I just couldn't."

"Why not?" For Merlin's sake, what kind of man could turn down a pretty girl so ready and willing? _Certainly not Ron._

"It just didn't feel right. She didn't feel right. Not...not like y..."

He caught himself in time, but Hermione knew exactly what he'd meant to say, and a bright chap like Teddy would know that she knew what he had almost blurted out. This time it was her turn to look away uneasily. Here was a deep hole that she'd dug for the both of them. She'd been acting like she was jealous, even though she wasn't, but the way she had just worded things, well...it definitely sounded like to him that she had been jealous all, right? Especially the way she'd been acting until they went to the marketplace together and he got her those gifts, but that had just been all her headache, right? And nothing to do with the tryst Teddy...with whatever she'd thought he'd done?

"Anyway, it was late, and I was pretty drunk, definitely wasn't going to Apparate myself anywhere, don't think I could've found my way back to the hotel either, so I went back with Elvira, and slept on the floor in her flat."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, because that was what her mind told her mouth to convey, to cover up for the fact that her instinctual first reaction had been relief. Why was that?

"Anyway, I guess it's all a bit embarrassing, that's why I told her to tell you that..."

"She's probably dealing with a hangover of her own," Hermione replied, though she could guess at what ulterior motives the Spanish girl might have had in not promptly communicating to her Teddy's message. "Our personal lives is probably hardly a priority of hers."

 _Ours?_ Why did she say that? Was she going insane?

"Well, nothing happened. That's just the fact. And I want you to know that."

Great. Now he definitely _thought_ she cared about whom he went home with, and now she had to deal with a lovestruck boy who now fell falsely under the impression that she was absolutely head over heels jealous over his imaginary fling. Because she definitely wasn't jealous, right? Not even a little bit. Why would she be? Teddy was a kid, and Prairie or whatever her name not much older, practically both children compared to her, whatever they did completely irrelevant to her life, leaving out whatever Harry might think about proper guardianship of his godson.

_Yet he turned her down because of me, an old maid well on her way to spinsterhood._

"Look Teddy, you're a growing boy, and you're going to, things are going to happen. That's the reason I'm not going to, to pry into...what you might or might not choose to do this trip. Or tell Harry for the matter. But I do have a responsibility to Harry..."

She was rambling now. Hermione found herself uncharacteristically flustered, and every second she continued would give the kid more ideas that were just completely unmerited. It had been such a perfect day too, once she got over her initial jealousy and took Teddy to the city, and it didn't escape her mind the similarities between this perfect day to those early days with Ron when they were courting, and he tried, and wanted to impress her, and wasn't threatened by her, and...

_No. I am not comparing a day spent with Teddy with Ron._

_No,_ a different voice whispered evilly into her heart, _because you enjoyed this more than your so-called romantic escapades with Ron, didn't you?_

_Of course not. It might be hard to remember now, but Ron was wonderful once, once upon a time. We fought a war together, we went through hell and back together._

_Would Teddy ever stray from you, would Teddy ever leave you, in the middle of a war no less?_

_I don't know, do I? Teddy's a child, who's never seen a war, who'll never see a war if I have any say in the matter. I don't actually know him, he doesn't truly even know who he is, because he hasn't been through what we've been through, me and Ron and Harry._

_Is that what you're going to demand from a man, that he's gone through the worst war of wars with you? Ron's gone, you'll never take him back, and even old Molly Weasley knows that deep in her heart. You can either move on, and yes, you don't know what kind of person Teddy Lupin's going to be in ten years, but he's got a better foundation than most men you've known or considered, doesn't he? Does he look like a child? Does that body look like a child's body? Oh, I believe that body will do wonderfully for the time being, until he grows into the kind of man you'd want him to be._

He was staring at her, probably because he'd never seen her speechless for so long.

"Were you thinking about Ron again?" His question caught her by surprise. Silly crush or not, he'd been perfectly respectful to her all trip, controlling his hormones better than most boys his age. Was that about to change, the more time they'd spent together, and the more familiar he became with her? (The more familiar she _allowed_ him to become with her.) If that was the case, Hermione knew she needed badly to set down some ground rules.

"How did you know?" That hadn't been what she'd intended to say. But for some reason, she felt her lips moving right now almost of its own accord. "Did I give it away," she quickly corrected, "did it look like I wanted to rip someone's throat out right about now?"

"No. You start looking like usually do when you're obviously thinking about him, you become so sad, like you might never smile again."

To his horror, the words flew out of his mouth before he'd even realized it. He wasn't lying, it was how he honestly felt, yet even as he'd spoken he knew it was no way to speak to his boss, much less his godfather's best friend, no matter how much he loved her and wanted her.

"He left me once..."

No. Something was wrong. Hermione had to practically clench her teeth shut, else she'd been about to confide to her fifteen year old nephew the entire roller coaster ride of her relationship and marriage with Ron. What was wrong with her? Had it been something she'd eaten, because neither one of them had drank anything except coffee and tea all day. Could it be a spell, even?

"Something's wrong."

"I think so too," Teddy agreed, standing up and wincing as his bare feet touched the rocky, barren ground underneath his pool chair. "I feel strange, odd. Like I can't control what I'm thinking, or staying..."

"If it was a spell I think I would've known." The veteran witch looked around, ready to pull out her wand. Of course there was one last possibility, if Teddy had somehow learned some malevolent spell she'd yet to identify. That wasn't likely, she didn't think. He wouldn't have the skill to pull something like that past her regardless, and he wasn't the kind of person to even try, unless she'd completely misjudged his character.

Wincing as she herself stood up, Hermione shuddered as a cold wind blew past her, one that couldn't be natural in a place like Morocco in the heart of the summer. She looked over to Teddy, who looked somewhere in between near a panic, and ready for battle, even though the boy had never experienced such a thing yet in life.

"We need to get out of here," she said, reaching out her hand, but a fierce gale blew her backwards. Suddenly the sand whirled up to their eyes and above, blinding them and forming cyclones all around them. She could only think of a few possibilities, none of which weren't foreboding.

"How's your Patronus, Teddy," she cried out.

"I've done it against a boggart in class." She could barely hear his voice, even though he stood only a few feet away from her. "These aren't going to be boggarts, are they?"

"No." As she uttered the word, thin, conical shadows rose out of the sand like dark, hollow and transparent tree trunks. Slowly the tops of the shadows took shape, holes opening up within holes, pale, sickly yellow orbs forming the only sources of light either of one of them could see, the full moon's light having disappeared under the ominous shadows within seconds.

"Are those," she could hear Teddy ask her in horror, stuttering, "are those...dementors?"

"Not dementors," she shouted over, waving her wand at a group of their attackers. "I think they're D'jinns!"

"D'jinns?"

"Expecto Patronum," she cried out, there was no time for her to further explain. Teddy cast out his spell too, though it would be no good, he was far too young to have mastered such a complex spell against such powerful, mythical creatures. Even Hermione found herself struggling, the six or so that had gathered before her were being held back, but she needed to protect both of them, from every direction, and for some reason she wasn't strong enough.

"Damn it Ron," she spoke, knowing that Teddy couldn't hear her through the attack. She'd never struggled so much with a Patronus since well before the war, but she'd never been betrayed and cheated upon so rampantly, hadn't she? No wonder she was finding it so difficult for her to summon her happiest memories, Hogwarts, her family, her children, without Ron's lingering presence each and every time.

 _Don't think about who you've lost, think about who you still have._ Her mother and father. Hugo and Rose, they were hers and they would be hers regardless of their father. Harry, Ginny, Fleur, Bill, George, all the Weasleys who hadn't betrayed her. Draco, unlikely friend and constant presence in her life that he'd become recently. Teddy, who was utterly devoted to her, who obviously worshiped her and revered her in a way that no one had ever done before, who with her tutelage, would mature and grow in to a brilliant and talented and empathetic wizard, the epitome of the future she'd been trying to build since the war.

Slowly but surely her spell gained in strength, while beside her Teddy continued to hold his own. As the infernal and tortured wails surrounding them died down inside their small bubble, she turned around and reached out her hand again. "Now Teddy!"

Fingers touched, but the movement had distracted him from his Patronus. She saw his protection weakening, then in that moment one of the shadowy creatures swarmed in from behind, and Teddy screamed in pain when it appeared to grab towards the back of his head. Intensifying her spell, she expelled the invader, and once certain of his grip on her hands, Hermione closed her eyes and within seconds forcefully Apparated both of them back to the pool.

"What happened," she asked Teddy, who seemed fine, if a bit disoriented.

"I don't know. Think it tried to get at me."

Looking back up at the hilltop from where they came, she could still hear the furor and see what appeared to be the world's smallest yet concentrated sandstorm enveloping the summit in fury. Both raising their wands in the air, ready to continue their defense should the onslaught continue, Hermione noticed that more than a few of her fellow witches and wizards had come out to the pool's terrace, first out of morbid curiosity, then sheer self preservation.

"What in the infernal devil's name is going on here," Rick Morgan asked angrily. Craning her neck backwards, she recognized Sunil and Elvira staring up the hillside hesitantly, amongst the others.

"I think it's D'jinns. They attacked us up there."

"D'jinns," Morgan cried out. "That's impossible."

"Richard's right," Sunil unexpectedly agreed, standing next to the Texan. "D'jinn attacks are extremely rare, especially on non-Muggles. Not for hundreds of years..."

"Tell that to them," Hermione shouted impatiently, all of them aware that the dark swarm was now bearing down on them. All her colleagues raised their wands, the group forming a powerful protective barrier over the villa. Yet for maybe another ten minutes or so, the wretched creatures continued to futilely bear down on them, repulsed each time. Finally, the buzzing in her ears began to quiet, and one by one her compatriots broke their spells.

Considering the absurdness of their situation, it seemed appropriate that it was the Texan who spoke first. "Well I'll be. Would've expected ol' Jerry t' move mah Cowboys down to goddamned Mexico before gettin' attacked by a pack of genies."

Then, while they were all distracted by the Cowboy's obnoxious voice, they all heard a thud amidst their group. Hermione was terrified when she realized it had been Teddy who had just plummeted onto the ground after helping fend off that last attack. He was unconscious, she gasped, his eyes shut to the world.

"Teddy!" Hermione checked his pulse, listened for his heartbeat, gently probed into his consciousness to see just far gone he was. Everything seemed fine, and he felt like he was merely sleeping, albeit deeply. Then she remembered what happened at the end of that battle further above, and rolled his head to the side, to where the D'Jinn had touched him just before she'd disapparated them both.

The blemish was barely perceptible, but it was there nonetheless, a small dark trickle of blood in the back of his neck from what looked to be a tiny puncture wound. From above her, Hermione heard a gasp from Sunil.

"He's been marked," both she and the Indian wizard remarked amazedly at the same time.


	6. Manhattan

"Teddy's been marked by a D'Jinn?" Hermione flinched instinctively away from Harry's incredulous voice, knowing that she had indeed failed, on one level or another, as the guardian to her best friend's godson.

"This is actually a good thing," Sunil asserted next to her.

"How is this possibly a good thing," Harry Potter's image asked angrily from the fireplace. "What in bloody hell is a D'Jinn anyway?"

Apparently Harry either hadn't been paying attention during his mythical creatures classes, or had forgotten them in the decades since. Fortunately, Sunil was something of an expert, and did most of the explaining for their group.

"...most wizards believe they are immortal, because they are so ancient, but a D'Jinn can be killed, though such instances are rare."

"So they float in the air and go after people's souls," Harry said, reviewing Sunil's summary in his mind. "Like Dementors, then?"

"It's a common misconception, yes. While they bear similar appearances and may share similar behaviorial habits, comparing a D'Jinn and a Dementor would be like comparing a dragon and an ant, simply because neither are human. They collect souls, yes, but whereas Dementors possess a more, shall I say, nihilistic attitude towards their activities, D'Jinns are highly different in how they...ahem, pursue and keep to their prey."

"They play with them," Hermione continued, recalling what she'd remembered from her studies, "toy with them, sometimes they torment them, sometimes they might even spoil and pamper them. The few souls who have been successfully extracted from a D'Jinn's captivity have reported vastly different experiences, from being locked in a torture chamber for an eternity, to the perception that they were a god of multiple galaxies during the time they were held."

"D'Jinns are highly intelligent creatures," Sunil added. "Not that Dementors aren't, clearly the latter do communicate with each other in a manner, but D'Jinns are extremely social, albeit in ways we cannot really comprehend. There does appear to be hierarchies within their societal structures however, extensive telepathic communication far beyond our understanding, and very strict blood laws..."

"Blood laws," Harry interrupted.

"That's why it's... _almost_ a good thing that Teddy's been marked," Hermione said apprehensively. "It means that the D'Jinn who marked him has claimed his soul, and no other one of their brethren would be allowed to further touch him, under penalty of death. Apparently it is one of their main blood laws."

The apparition in the fire squinted. "How do you know all this?"

"Sunil's sanctuary in India has a resident D'Jinn," Hermione explained.

"He is properly subdued, so to speak, and we have been able to study him and question him on their ways. The knowledge is unprecedented really, though still raw; once my hypothesis's are more refined, I do plan on submitting them to the Journal of Indian Magic."

"D'Jinn's are very local creatures, they do not have the power to travel beyond their marked territories. Once we get things settled here, I plan on taking Teddy to Manhattan a day early. He'll be absolutely safe there, Harry, I promise you."

The boy had slept peacefully through the night, better than Hermione actually, who'd woken every few hours to check on him. Somehow morning came slowly nevertheless, and she had to face the terrifying prospect of telling Harry just how badly she'd failed his charge.

"I know," her friend replied. "It's not that I don't trust you, Hermione, but...he'll be alright, I take it?"

"He's just fatigued," Hermione responded, somehow feeling like a schoolgirl again, and on the receiving end of a rare and severe reprimand from one of her professors. "Sunil assures me there are no lasting side effects from a marking, and like we said, it makes him safe from 99.99999% of all the D'Jinns in the world. I'm sorry, Harry. I was sloppy, I wasn't aware enough of surroundings..."

The Indian wizard came to her defense. "Ms. Granger bears no blame, Mr. Potter, I assure you. D'Jinns are extremely reclusive creatures, attacks are rare for Muggles, rarer still on witches still. That so many would congregate on Ms. Granger and Mr. Lupin, not only are such attacks utterly without precedent, at least for the last millennia, but," he squinted his eyes, "let me just say that suspicions ought to be raised."

Clearly Harry did not like that, and Hermione spent the next five minutes trying to assure him that she did not suspect any of her colleagues were trying to harm them, but should there be one with ill intent, they would get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later.

"Trust me, Mr. Potter," Peter Torreys, the third of their Chosen One briefing team, spoke into the hearth, "the conference security 'cross the pond is already impeccable, I've already seen to that, but be assured that I will add as much security on Ms. Granger and Mr. Lupin as necessary."

Slowly all of them except Hermione trickled away from the room. Sensing that Harry had more to say to her in private, she waited until Sunil shut the door behind him.

Harry finally asked. "What do you think, Hermione? Was this a once in a millennium freak attack, or...I'll call it what it is, a targeted assassination attempt?"

"Statistical probability would say assassination," Hermione reluctantly agreed, "although we ought not completely rule out the possibility of the former. Obviously there are those who do not want this alliance to be formed, many of whom might be putting on false faces through the conferences thus far. I've spoken to Kingsley on the matter, and he has people looking into it, particularly Chou and Ustinov..."

Her friend apparently did not care too much about international politics. "Where was Draco when this all happened," he interrupted.

"He's home for the weekend with his family. Still probably in Malfoy Manor for the day, I reckon."

Harry narrowed his eyes from the other side of the hearth. "Convenient, isn't it?"

"You're not seriously suggesting..."

"You haven't considered the possibility?"

"No," Hermione asserted, leaping to the defense of her friend, and hoping her judgment wasn't wrong. "Why would Draco possibly try to kill me and Teddy? He's his cousin, for Merlin's sake."

"So was Tonks."

He had a point there. "Draco's not Bellatrix, Harry. Or even Lucius."

Just how sure was she though about this? Would she risk her life on that supposition? Or Teddy's, for the matter? If Draco truly was twisted enough to kill his own cousin, then she supposed the ability to act harmless would be every bit part and parcel of his devious abilities.

Sensing her hesitation, Harry pressed his point. "I'm going to have some people look into it on my end, where he really goes when he claims to be visiting Astoria and his son...who he might actually be meeting."

"It won't hurt," Hermione conceded. "Just don't...just don't jump to conclusions too quickly, will you?"

"I won't, but I will do whatever I have to do to protect my godson, Hermione." As if she wouldn't do the same. "Maybe...Ginny would understand, we can work it out, I'm sure...but maybe it's best if Teddy came home."

Hermione shook her head. "I promised you I'd take care of Teddy this summer, Harry. I won't fail you."

"Don't let your pride get in the way of this Hermione," he chided her back, his tone more disapproving than she would have expected. "Someone might be trying to kill you...someone connected, someone powerful. I'm not questioning your abilities, but it's not a matter of success or failure on your part. Teddy life isn't an exam, Hermione, or one of your work projects or initiatives."

"Nor do I see him as a mere _task_ ," she replied, her ire up, how dare he try to suggest such an awful thing? "I care about him a lot, Harry. He may not be my godson, but he's been a surprising...he's been a delight this trip, Teddy. And he's really taken well to it, one bad night notwithstanding, you should see him, holding his own against some of the most powerful and influential witches and wizards in the world. This could be really good for him, the lifelong connections he'll make, the confidence and knowledge and experience he's going to bring back with him to Hogwarts, he'd be head and shoulders ahead of every one of his classmates, even the Seventh Years. He's having fun, he's learning, he's seeing the world, not to mention he's been invaluable to me..."

"There's the rub, Granger," Harry laughed, as the tension waned between the two friends, "he's actually making your life easier, isn't he? Like I promised he would."

"You can tell _Ginny_ that _she_ was right about Teddy being helpful. She'd love to hear that."

The face in the fireplace relaxed. "I didn't know you cared so much Hermione..."

"Of course I do!"

"...but I'm glad you do."

* * *

Her charge was awake by the time she returned to his room, though still clearly dazed and lying under his sheets. Next to him was a clean room and two neatly folded suitcases.

"Who packed for you, Teddy?"

"I packed my stuff up this morning."

"You shouldn't have," Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips in a disapproving and matronly manner. "I was going to pack your stuff up for you, you should have been resting and sleeping!"

"It was no trouble," Teddy protested, and she noticed a deep blush growing on both his cheeks and his hair. "I mean, I didn't want you going through all my dirty clothes and all."

"I'm a mother of two, Teddy, trust me, the things I've seen..." But then she remembered that her children weren't teenagers, and perhaps there might be some subtle yet significant differences to Teddy's dirty laundry compared to Rose and Hugo's. "I'll go grab my bags, and if you're ready we'll Floo from here."

Despite his many protests, Hermione helped Teddy walk over to the Floo, and helped them to his bed the moment they arrived into his hotel room on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. As she'd requested, their room service had the food she'd ordered ready and waiting by his bedside.

"Here," she said, handing him a bowl of hot soup. "Chicken noodle. Does wonders after a magical attack, trust me."

"You don't have to mother me, Hermione." Despite his words and his blush, he readily accepted her offering and gulped up the warm tonic. "This isn't right. I should be the one helping you, not the other way around."

Right now, this was heaven and hell for Teddy. Taking a seat next to his bed, Hermione loomed over him, and he could see every line and freckle on her face, every eyelash, every dilation of her beautiful brown eyes. Here he had her undivided attention like never before, but he didn't want to be mothered, he didn't want her to see him as just another one of her children, even though part of him knew that was how she would always perceive him. Until he grew up at least, and maybe if he were lucky and she were still single (sad and alone), he might have an outside chance of changing how she looked at him.

"How bad was Harry?"

"He didn't actually mention you at all, in fact," she said with a devious smile. "Kept wondering whether he could convince Kingsley to recruit the D'Jinns as assisant Aurors, or for Azkaban. All business, your godfather, it's impressive really, how could and unemotional and uncaring he can be."

He chuckled lightly. "I lo...I like you a lot when you're the serious Undersecretary, Hermione. But I _really_ like you when you're not being serious all the time."

"Believe me, Lupin, between all the nights out and the wine and barely tolerating your cousin Draco all the time, I think you've seen the 'unserious' side of me more than anyone else I can remember in a long time. Even Harry and R..."

"Ron," he completed her sentence when she faltered.

"Yes, Ron," she said, both of them recalling what they had been discussing right before the D'Jinn attack. "Look, Sunil told me that the D'Jinns like to play with their victims' emotions sometimes, like a cat toying with its prey, before they actually attack. We may have been thinking some things, or saying them..."

"So if I might have said something stupid to you, I can blame it on the D'Jinns mindfucking me."

Hermione winced at the boy's language, but decided to let this one go for now, as he deserved some allowance after fending off and surviving a once in a millennium kind of ambush. "Right. Or if you might have been thinking strange thoughts..."

Except it hadn't been the D'Jinns, his thoughts were entirely his own, albeit he'd felt more emboldened at the time. "Seems like I've a weaker mind than you then."

"Your mind is quite impressive, Teddy. Few your age would have been able to summon up a Patronus powerful enough to ward them off, even for a few seconds."

"I've had some happy moments in this past week I could draw upon," he said with a content smile, finishing and setting down his soup. "What I mean is, I don't recall you saying anything weird or out of the ordinary."

 _No, but I was thinking some awful things._ Sunil had indeed mentioned that the D'Jinns played around with their victims' emotions; they did not make them up out of the blue however, nor had she been able to find anything to the contrary in the little research she'd done on the matter since the previous night. Regardless, she vowed to put that sordid episode behind both of them, and it wasn't like they were going through D'Jinn habitats for awhile, not until Kenya and Turkey at least. If there were some plot on her life, she would assume that she and Kingsley and Harry's combined efforts and intellects would have uncovered it by then. And Teddy's too, she would not underestimate him in the matter.

"Watch Thrones with me tonight," he asked her, feigning weakness, so that he could elicit as much sympathy from her as he could. "After last Sunday, I think I'm too scared to watch it by myself."

"Of course." How could she say no to him, when he could be so sweet when he wanted to be?

* * *

Though they'd laid chastely on the same bed as they'd had in the Delacour manor a week before, separated by less than a foot, Hermione found herself more cognizant of her young charge's physical presence next to her, as they took in a much less bloody and heartbreaking season finale. (Dare she say the last scene with the dragon girl was actually positively cheerful?) He was nothing but a gentlemen of course, and even if Teddy wanted to try something, he was in no shape to, yet still, though Hermione had been well aware of his unrequited feelings for her a week ago, the added familiarity in the time since seemed to manifest his daydreams in a way more real and tangible to her.

"Have a good night Teddy," she said while leaving his room, "and don't worry about work the next few days."

Whether it was out of guilt or regret for leaving him exposed during the D'Jinn attack, or gratitude for his constant helpful presence over the last week plus, or a mixture of both, Hermione leaned over and kissed the young man on his forehead, knowing that he might attach more importance to the gesture than what she'd mean, yet also knowing that he deserved it nevertheless.

There were no notes for her the next morning, nor did the Undersecretary expect them, having done her own prep work in the wake of the latest catastrophe, but her coffee lay by her door in the morning hot and ready, and Hermione gave thanks not for the convenience of the actual drink, but gratitude for the dedication of her assistant, because she wasn't yet entirely above feeling appreciated and cared for, especially after the last few months. Then there he somehow stood, properly dressed and ready by the time she arrived at the conference room early Monday morning, chatting with his cousin on the weekend's events.

"D'Jinns," Draco asked, eyes wide in shock. "Salazar, I didn't even know the things were real, no more than Looney Lovegood's imaginary creatures..."

"Will you be coming with us to see _Luna_ ," Hermione interrupted, emphasizing her friend's name, catching both men by surprise. Funny enough, she'd already assumed that Teddy would be accompanying her. What else would he have to do, anyway?

"Ah, Ms. Lovegood resides in New York City," the Malfoy scion replied, a bit chagrined at being caught using the woman's unflattering schoolgirl nickname.

"East Village, actually." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, not really for calling Luna Looney, but scrutinizing Harry's suspicions of the man. What motives would Draco harbor to try to kill her, she'd been wondering since Sunday morning. Hermione honestly could not name any that did not date back to a long dead war, and the thought of the man somehow summoning a dozen untamable D'Jinns? Even more out of the question.

"Maybe later this week, if Astoria's condition improves."

Immediately, she felt guilty for questioning him. For Draco to use his wife's condition as a cover for a malevolent scheme, well, that would make the man almost as vile as Voldemort, and Hermione honestly did not believe him to be so abominable, former Death Eater bully or not.

As it so happened, Luna sent her an owl asking to meet Tuesday night, and Hermione did not object. There seemed to be an obsession with their American hosts insisting on steak dinners every night during their stay in Manhattan, and Hermione could handle perhaps one of those heavy meals a month at most, so after a most unpleasant happy hour, she'd whisked Teddy along on their second full day in the city, taking the local subway trains just so he could truly experience the flavor of the bustling city, in addition to their various excursions to small pizza joints during the daytime.

"I like this part of the city better," Teddy remarked, as they walked through the hip neighborhood far in contrast with the stuffy corporate atmosphere of their Midtown lodgings. "Less suits."

"Less suits," Hermione poked him in mock indignation. "The way you've performed this trip, I would have you pegged as well on your way to becoming a suit."

The Undersecretary giggled unbecomingly at her own remark. She felt lighthearted, happy, joyful, as if Luna's naturally uncaring mood was already rubbing off on her before their actual physical reunion. Gripping Teddy's arm in her own, Hermione wondered deviously what the passerby's would think of her, claiming someone as young and handsome as him for herself. Alas, it was New York City, and no one cared enough to give them a second glance.

"Maybe so," Teddy admitted, knowing in his heart that he'd wear whatever and work whatever boring job in the ministry, so long as it was alongside Hermione, "but it's good to get away for awhile anyway."

Following her friend's rather cryptic directions was a challenge, but eventually she found her way to the hidden alleyway, cast the requisite spell, and walked up to the small speakeasy where they were supposed to meet.

"Are those eyeballs real," Teddy asked nervously as they eyed the many strange patrons in the establishment, and their stranger concoctions, smoking, floating, flaming, and yes, staring back at them eye to eye.

"I'd hope not," Hermione muttered. Feeling lightheaded from the walk, she took Teddy's arm again and led him towards the bar. "But considering this is Luna's favorite spot, I suppose you'd never know..."

She'd taken it easy since that disaster of a Saturday night in Spain, abstaining wholly from alcohol Sunday, and partaking in only two glasses of wine at dinner the past night out of politeness. But in order to get away from the delegates on a Tuesday night, the representative for Britain's magic community had to at least show face to the designated happy hour before departing, an occasion they'd both just barely survived.

The Cowboy had been especially obnoxious, uninvitingly rubbing her shoulders and placing his hand over hers at least twice while they were both standing by the bar, and Hermione thought that, delicate diplomatic situation or not, she would need to speak to Pete about his fellow countryman's behavior if it continued to worsen. If not for her sake, then for Teddy's, as she'd been sure he had been _that_ close to casting a rough and clumsy hex at the Texan for his presumptuous actions towards her.

"Hermione!" Luna Lovegood's voice rang through the cozy room just as the bartender had served them two of the tamer looking drinks on the menu, a blue concoction for Teddy, a pink one for her. "And you must be little Edward Lupin!"

"Ms. Lovegood," Teddy said, looking aghast when the woman took him into a hearty embrace right after hugging her old friend from the war. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard a lot about you from the boss lady. And Harry, of course."

"Oh I've met you before, Teddy Lupin. You were running around in diapers then, but you look exactly the same!" The older woman cast a puzzled look over at Hermione. "I can't believe the two of you haven't shagged yet!"

"Excuse me, what?" Not for the first time this trip did Hermione spit out her drink, and over the same subject matter no less. It did not help things that the woman would casually mention such a inappropriate topic immediately after reciting her memories of a toddler Teddy. "I assure you..."

"Hermione, I've never seen your snogimtums look like that before. Both your snogimtums in fact, they're practically dancing all on top of each other, but they don't dare touch, so I doubt you've even tried to snog yet, much less sleep together."

"Snogtimtums?" Teddy looked a ridiculous combination of abashed and confused. It was cute, actually, though Hermione did her best to banish that particular line of thinking from her mind.

"Luna has always been a very...ahem, creative mind," Hermione chuckled awkwardly.

"Oh, there's nothing creative about snogimtums, 'Mione," her golden haired friend brushed away. "Don't be ashamed, Teddy, everyone has them. First time I noticed one was on your aunt Ginny's shoulder actually, whenever she was anywhere in the same room as Harry. And you, you and Ron had them too, but never this color, Hermione." Leaning in, she whispered into her ear, though loud enough for Teddy to overhear, Hermione noticed. "I wouldn't keep them waiting too long. They start clawing at you, you know, if you keep your snogimtums waiting and their patience runs out..."

"I see," Hermione said, gripping Teddy's arm, almost massaging it, as the teenager practically jumped at her unexpected touch. "Guess I might have to keep my Snogigums waiting for a few more years at least, right? Out of sheer propriety, at least." She laughed, and Teddy could swear that he could feel her blush next to him while his own hair changed color. Was this a joke? Hermione had never been the joking type, especially about matters like this...pertaining to him.

"If you can stand the pain, I suppose. Oh look! I like that table over there!"

They followed the woman and the dark, unshaved gentleman she brought with her, with long brown hair, adorned in a fedora upon his head and many tattoos below. They were holding hands, so Hermione guessed this was Luna's most current gentleman caller whom the woman had predictably forgot to introduce to them, and thought that they definitely fucked the shit out of each other multiple times a day and my, wasn't her mind completely in the gutter tonight?

"I see you brought a friend," Hermione said while Luna's companion went to order their drinks.

"Ah, Rochambeau, he's quite talented, isn't he?"

 _With his tongue,_ Hermione wondered.

"Talented," Teddy asked innocently next to her. "What does he do?"

"Magical tattoos, darling," Luna said, lightly laughing as she absentmindedly brushed her hand over Teddy's. Then Hermione gripped his hand again and began stroking his fingers in a very improper and unchaste manner, and Teddy wondered whether this was some kind of joke between the two women, likely designed to embarrass him in some way too intelligent for him to grasp at the moment. If so, he did not know where it was to lead, though he might as well just enjoy it.

The tall American hipster, Teddy believed that was the Muggle term for them, returned, and this time he noticed how the pictures on his skin moved, birds flapping their wings, a snake slithering about roses which wilted and bloomed in an eternally repeating cycle.

"He's giving me one tonight," Luna whispered conspiratorially at them. Hermione examined the woman's smooth skin, and found no blemishes or marks. "It'll be my first!"

"Speaking of firsts, Teddy," Hermione turned expectedly at him, "was that little Spanish slut _your_ first?"

Immediately she turned away, what the hell did she just say? Merlin, that was mean, and highly inappropriate to bring up to the boy. But Teddy did not notice her discomfort, because he was currently ensconced in the middle of his own fevered embarrassment.

"We didn't really do anything," he said nervously. "And no, I don't go around Hogwarts snogging girls in the hallway, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh dear Merlin," Hermione gasped, feeling her cheeks deepen into the darkest blush, "I am so sorry, Teddy. I should not have said that, I don't even know why, that was so inappropriate..." Yet it did not escape her notice how his fingers were still entwined between hers. Nor did she make any effort to change that.

"Seems you're right," Luna's man friend said to her. "She def wants that ass."

"Oh shush Ro, don't ruin it for them. Let them figure it out themselves."

"There's nothing to ruin?" Merlin, she'd like it if Teddy ruined her knickers...tearing them off with his teeth... "So how did you and Luna meet, Ro?" There was no way she could remember the man's full name.

"Party in Montauk," the American shrugged.

"I don't love the Hamptons," Luna continued to ramble, exactly as Hermione remembered, and from Teddy's perspective, exactly as she'd described of her old school friend. "I much prefer the city in the summer, especially weekends when it's empty and everyone's out weekending. But it was Warwawa mating season, and Montauk is just far enough out there where you can see them from the beach, but Hermione, it's _such_ a long train ride, and I have nothing to do for hours..."

"You take the train for hours," Teddy quizzed, completely thrown off by Hermione's friend. Hermione took them on occasion because she enjoyed them, and here he'd thought this entire time that she'd been the only one with that particular oddity amongst the wizarding community.

"It's what the Muggles do," Luna replied indifferently, as if that explained the entirety of her strangeness.

"Do you ever snog on the train," Hermione asked her, as Teddy nearly choked up his drink. Did this strange woman bring something completely foreign and, dare he say, savage out of Hermione? "I bet you you could practically shag on those Muggle trains if you wanted, put up a few spells and they'd never notice. I could tell you which ones..."

Merlin, what was she saying? Even Luna was looking at her oddly, as if _she_ were the strange and different one. And she was doing all of this in front of Teddy, no less! Innocent Teddy, who probably had never ever done more than just kiss a girl...and screw the Muggle trains, she could ride _him_ for hours...

"Hermione," the blonde woman chided, almost blushing herself. "I never knew you had a fetish for Muggle trains!"

"I don't," she replied defensively. "I mean, I enjoy them, but it's not like..."

"I don't judge," Luna said plainly. "If you did, I would recommend far better ones for snogging than the Long Island Railroad..."

Snogging, that would be nice, wouldn't it? It had been so long, and Hermione wondered what exactly the bar floozies saw in Ron. He'd never been much of a great kisser after all, in fact she could bet that she would have a better time snogging Luna for the matter. Or Teddy, Merlin, what would it be like to kiss a handsome young lad who _actually_ _wanted_ _her_ , out of all things?

When her hand reached and grabbed his thigh, he jumped. When she gave him a sly smile and started rubbing his legs up and down, slipping her fingers under the bottom of his shorts, he thought he couldn't breathe. What was he supposed to say to her right now? _Hermione, I really like you touching me there? This is very unlike you, but please don't stop, and keep moving your fingers upwards, if you don't mind?_

"You have nice legs, Teddy. Nice and firm, you must work them out."

"I do squats," was all he could mumble out, while Luna exchanged a bemused look to her manfriend.

"I see you're finally listening to your snogimtums. About time, Hermione."

"Then you won't mind if I do this?" Without another thought she pulled Teddy's head towards her lips and poked her tongue into his mouth as if she the air inside his lungs to breath, pulling him towards her body in a way that was less kissing, and more a savage, bestial devouring of a prey by its predator. True to New York City standards, no one noticed or batted an eyelash as the much older witch passionately kissed the much younger man in the open booth as if there were no tomorrow, and wondered if anyone would notice if she tore off his clothes and fucked him where they sat. Or on top of the bar. Or out on the street, Teddy slamming into her while she gripped an adjacent brick wall for dear life. Or if she ordered him to crawl under their table and lick her senseless while she caught up with her old friend's splendidly odd shenanigans. Or...Merlin, what was wrong with her?

Even Luna could discern that something was not right about her old friend by now. So could Teddy, though he was helpless to do anything about it, completely enthralled under the spell of the woman he'd loved for years. She was literally licking him now, running her tongue up and down the front of his face as if she were some wild beast, while one of her hands had successfully found its way under his belt, squeezing the tip of his shaft as ravenously as she consumed his face and tongue. Against his better judgment, Teddy gave in to his raw, animal instincts and slipped his hand under her shirt, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, running his fingers up and down her back, bringing them closer to her soft waist, pressing his thumb against her supple belly, feeling his actions rippling through her body while he slipped that trespassing thumb closer and closer down her abdomen...

"Hermione? Hermione?"

A soft tap across her shoulder woke the Undersecretary up from her daydream. Except it was no daydream, Hermione realized, horrified, she could taste him on her lips, she could feel his touch against her bare skin, Godric, she was currently gripping his cock underneath his pants, for Merlin's sake! Except it felt so good, and she wanted to keep going...

"Hermione," Luna's voice broke through again. "Sorry Hermione, maybe I should have noticed earlier..."

"Noticed what," she interrupted rudely, eager to get through the interruption so she could return to ravaging Teddy. (Godric, he's Harry's godson, what was she doing?)

"Your snogimtums...I'd just assumed they were that way because you hadn't been with any men since Ron and the divorce. But that color...I've never seen them so red on anyone, not since...Hermione, I think you're under a spell right now."

"A spell?" That made sense. That explained why she was currently sitting atop of Teddy's lap, that explained why her tongue had just reached so deep down his throat as if she were searching for some hidden Room of Requirement adjacent to his tonsils, that explained why her fingers continued to grip and rub at his shaft up and down...Merlin, she could go to jail for this! And she deserved it, for Godric's sake!

"I think your friend's right, Hermione," Teddy blurted out reluctantly. As much as he wanted her, as much as he wanted this sudden surge of passion to continue (and it was continuing, her thumb did not cease its pressure against his tip, Merlin he was so close), his mind had finally caught on to what his subconscious already knew, that this was not what Hermione wanted, her current actions definitively did not belong the woman he knew and loved, not out of her free will, at least. "This can't be you. It's got to be some sort of spell or potion."

It killed him to be the one trying to stop the beautiful witch from molesting him, but Teddy did not want her like this, in a way that she was clearly going to regret once she returned to her senses. This was not Hermione, this was magic, someone else's magic.

"Red green flashing orange," Luna said, squinting her eyes at the dark spaces above the crown of her friend's head. "Why, I believe it might just be a simple Amoranous potion, I remember slipping a bit of it to this Muggle chap once, he wanted me I could tell from his snogimtums, but he was too shy, and afterwards they looked just like yours do right now..."

"Amoranous," Hermione questioned, just as Teddy gasped and shuddered under the spell of her touch, and she felt a warm liquid engulf her fingers and saw a darkening wet spot seeping through the fabric of his shorts. Merlin, this was bad, she was definitely guilty of some crime by now, did she just give Teddy freaking Lupin a handjob in the middle of a public pub in Manhattan? A _successful_ handjob, for the matter? What in Salazar's name was fucking wrong with her? "That's the inhibition spell, right?"

In her mind she recited what she remembered of it from school, while Teddy, still out of breath from his sudden and unexpected stimulation, did the same. "The potion enhances the desires of its target, though it does not necessarily direct such attentions to the giver of the potion..." He made sure to emphasize the latter, as he could never think of doing such a horrible thing to Hermione, no matter how much he desired her. Love potions were just wrong, and should be banned as strictly as any unforgivable curse, he'd thought during that particular class.

"...the spell typically increases in intensity, peaking thirty to forty-five minutes after it's been administered." Still gripping Teddy's now soft form between her fingers, she traced back her movements that night. "Thirty to forty-five minutes ago...we were at that cocktail bar...with Cowboy Rick! Fucking Cowboy Rick." In her anger, she squeezed him tightly out of anger, causing him to wince in pain, though Teddy thought that was exactly what he'd deserved for his ill-gotten pleasure, unsolicited as it had arrived into his lap. Literally.

Was it possible? Surely it wasn't impossible. Had she kept her eyes on her glasses of wine during the entire course of that happy hour? Probably not, and even one unguarded second might be enough for a skilled wizard such as Richard Morgan to slip in the nefarious potion. Or it could have been someone else, Sunil, Elvira, even Teddy, though she doubted any of them would be capable of such an act...especially Teddy. And there was a special kind of arrogance in using an Amoramous spell, Hermione realized.

"The spell presumes the target is already attracted to the giver, thus it only removes the target's inhibitions while enhancing their desires, rather than binding them to the giver of the spell. Fucking Cowboy Rick." Only a man as arrogant as that fat Texan would assume she already wanted him, and thus needed only the easily and cheaply made inhibition spell to bring her past her tipping point.

Luna returned to their table, their half finished drinks forgotten by now. She pointed towards a dark corridor by the loos.

"There's a Floo in the back room over there. You should probably stop touching his penis, Hermione, he's already spilled his seed, so there's no point to keeping hold of it anymore, unless soft dicks are your thing of course, but I don't think it is, because you're under the spell, but I won't judge if you do prefer them that way. We can bring you back to your hotel room. I assume the concierge might have some remedies for you until the worst of the spell is over."

"Right. Hotel room." Where Teddy could fuck her senseless, then she would sleep inside his arms and wake up and fuck him senseless again, mounting and riding him until the Dark Lord's next return...

Removing her hand from his pants, Hermione looked into the eyes of her young charge, and realized that she'd never seen the boy so terrified before, not even during the D'Jinn attack.

 _I'm a monster,_ she whispered to herself. _I did this to him, spell or not I've just...I've just raped little Teddy Lupin, I've scarred him for life._

Hastily pulling up his soiled shorts and buckling his belt, Teddy held her arm delicately on one side, teaming up with Luna to walk Hermione through the bar and into the Floo room. Even the carousing New Yorkers paid them some heed by now, noticing that something wasn't entirely right with their group. Or with one of their group, at the very least. Somehow Hermione managed her senses well enough to toss in the Floo powder to bring them back to her hotel room, even as one hand of hers continued to grip maddeningly onto one of Teddy's ass cheeks underneath his shorts.

"I'll make her some tea," Luna said immediately, as they laid Hermione down into her bed, her older friend aggressively tucking the small woman's body underneath her sheets. Her tattooist boyfriend had chosen to remain in the bar, so as not to make it excessively awkward for all of them, and Teddy stood around nervously, wanting to help but unsure of what exactly he could do to help, without making things worse.

"Teddy." Hermione called for him from her bed, and despite knowing the depths of her conditions, he could not help but answer her call.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I can't believe the Cowboy would do something so awful to you...is there anything I can do to help?"

Rather than answering him, she began to lick his face again, which he should have expected, because of Hermione's spell, but didn't, because she was still Hermione.

"The best thing you can do is leave," Luna said sympathetically, feeding the woman some pungent smelling potion from the other side of the bed. "I can watch her until she sleeps. The potion should wear off by the morning."

"Luna's right," Hermione agreed, even as her nails dug deeply upon either side of his back, hanging onto his torso as if her life and body depended on it...which was exactly how she felt at this moment. "Gosh Teddy, I'm so sorry, this is absolutely the most mortifying..." It was such a strange sensation, that she could control her mind, her voice, yet the rest her body had fallen completely captive to the Cowboy's nefarious spell.

Painfully he extricated his body from her grip, but not before she managed to pull his head down towards her and plant one more fevered kiss upon his lips. Luna walked him out towards the hotel door, but he couldn't help but spare one last sad glance at Hermione. "Feel better, 'Mione. I'm so sorry he...that someone would do this to you."

Then he walked outside, not sure exactly how he should feel about how this strangest of nights had just went down, utterly confused at how his eagerly his body had responded to her fevered touching, yet how awful he felt about it in the aftermath. The teenager sulked through the hallway, as it dawned upon him how seriously both of them had been violated, in the worst way, by the devious Texan.

"Hey." Soft fingertips touched his shoulders, and he jumped, wondering whether Hermione had eluded her watcher yet again. Instead, he saw that it was Luna, who continued to gaze at him sympathetically with her light, silver eyes. "I'll take care of her tonight. You take care of her afterwards, okay?"

"I promise," he promised, even though he doubted Hermione needed any taking care of after the spell passed, especially from him.

"I mean it," the blonde woman pressed. "She needs you, even if she'll never admit it. It won't be easy for you, but you're good for her, and she's good for you."

"Thanks Luna." He managed a smile. "It was great to meet you, just wish it had been on a better night. Make sure she's alright, won't you?"

Gently she kissed him on his forehead in response, before returning towards Hermione's door, and Edward Remus Lupin crashed seconds later onto his bed, falling into as fevered and confused a sleep as he'd ever experienced in his short life.


	7. Manhattan

The Brightest Witch of her Age woke early and gasped in shame as the feverish memories of the night before returned to her similar to a passing dream, or rather, a nightmare she could not wake away. As she dressed and prepared for the morning, Undersecretary Hermione Granger ran through her mind every single one of her failings building calamity of a trip which just ultimately culminated in a night where she'd molested her best friend's underaged godson, inadvertently or not.

"I'm getting sloppy," she said to herself. She'd become complacent, all the wining and dining was distracting her, even as her hold on the conference and its participants continued to slip hour by hour. The D'Jinn attack she could not blame herself, but what had she done to protect herself and Teddy, to prevent further attempts by any would be assassins since that night in Morocco, except depend on Kingsley and others to help? Drinking the Amoranous potion was pure and easily preventable sloppiness on her part, and then accosting Teddy like that? Spell or not that ranked as highly disturbing in her mind.

So rather than dress for a workday that was still hours away, Hermione Granger did something she had not done in probably a decade. She went out for a run. To clear her head. To sort through her thoughts. To lose some of the pounds she'd gained since the beginning of the conferences. To decide on when and how to take charge on investigating who was trying to sabotage her life's work and kill her and Teddy as part of their efforts.

Because this was the best she could do, in lieu of running away completely from the disaster that was her very existence at the moment.

Cowboy Rick's career was over, she swore to herself as her course took her through New York City's Central Park. That was one small thing she could control for now, she would report him to Pete Torreys immediately upon her return to the hotel. A scarier prospect entered her head, that of her own career. If the day's Prophet did not feature pictures of her and Teddy snogging in an albeitly secret establishment, then Hermione could only attribute that to blind luck. Though she'd been under the Amoranous spell at the time, there was no excuse for her to have pursued Teddy, out of all people, not unless _she wanted to_ , and anyone with a modicum of knowledge, or access to WikiSpells for the matter, would soon arrive at the same conclusion, not least of which Teddy himself, to her increasing horror.

Which meant somehow, someway, she had somehow become attracted to her fifteen year old assistant. How? Hermione forced herself to confront such the disturbing idea as she made her way further and further uptown through the park. Perhaps she was not right in the head, perhaps Ron's affair and impending divorce had affected her more severely than she would have previously admitted to herself. Was it stress from the conferences? Or was it Teddy's never ending admiration and reverence for her, was the childhood crush she'd thought harmless affecting her more than she'd realized?

Obviously the young man was not an unattractive bloke, Hermione forced herself to admit, if only from an objective and unbiased perspective. His features remained youthful, but no longer childish, and the young man had proven himself attractive to adult females other than herself, as evidenced by that university girl in Salamanca. (Granted that slut Prancey was a lot closer to Teddy's age than her, but still...) Knowing what that body looked underneath his shirts definitely made him look older too, Hermione thought devilishly in her mind, as some of the more repugnant desires from the last night resurfaced in her mind.

"Alright," she whispered to herself, more and more sweat accumulating across her brow and into the fabric of her running clothes. "Teddy's a good looking boy. But he's still a boy. He's Harry's godson." His looks hadn't changed since the beginning of the summer, and she swore to herself that up until last night, she had never experienced any sexual feelings for Teddy Lupin, or any young man his age for the matter.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, was it? She _had_ admired his body in Morocco, if only briefly. But more importantly, Hermione was coming to realize, was how much she had been enjoying his company, his attentions, how every time he looked her way was the grandest flattery by way of his absolute adulation, as if he worshipped her like some kind of goddess. Any woman was susceptible to flattery, and apparently Hermione Granger was not proving the exception. Perhaps in normal circumstances she would have barely noticed, or cared, but it was not a stretch to say that her heart was more emotionally vulnerable now than it had ever been in her life. If anything, she was absolutely sucking up his attentions like a vampire, enabling his infatuation to feed at her broken soul, using it to keep up her self-esteem, her confidence, her ego, a drug to inject into a sense of self worth that had been absolutely shattered since Ron's affairs.

_And you'd been jealous in Spain, weren't you? Admit it. You like the attention, you like the adulation, and you like that it's centered all on you and no one else, even if you never planned to encourage it, much less act on it._

And if she no longer saw Teddy Lupin as the boy she used to babysit, as Harry's godson, then perhaps that was due to the fact that he was no longer acting like a child. Had he been hitting on her at Potterfest or one of their other family gatherings during the summer Hermione might barely notice, no matter how emotionally vulnerable she was. But the Teddy she'd observed this summer wasn't a silly child in between terms, but a young man functioning at the highest levels, conversing with diplomats and politicians the world over, holding his own with herself and _her_ peers and colleagues...not to mention the assorted bar floozies Elvira had introduced to him that one night. (And the fact that he'd turned down the girl for her sake, a feat Ron apparently was incapable of, certainly had its effect on how she viewed the young man.)

While she remained extremely uncomfortable about whatever feelings she held for Teddy by the time she was arriving back to Midtown, at least Hermione now understood, in a rational and scientific manner, just how and why they had come to be. It did not help her solve the problem however; obviously she would control herself in the future, that was clear, she had no other choice, but a line had been crossed with Teddy, one that could not be uncrossed. Unlike her, Teddy Lupin had not been under the grasp of any spell or potion the previous night. He'd remember her kiss, her touch, her highly impropriate tugging of his various parts, all with a relatively sober mind. Once he came to his senses, he'd realize that the Amoranous potion did not invent attraction, but merely amplified them and removed any inhibitions one might have from acting upon them.

"He'd know I want him," she whispered to herself, blocks away from the hotel, "on some level at least." Just how exactly was she supposed to address this with the teenager? Surely she couldn't perform an obliviating spell on him...

Could she?

Could she obliviate herself of such illicit feelings, for the matter?

Of course it was just her luck that he saw her right as she walked back into their hotel, dutifully waiting in the café line to purchase her morning coffee. His brown eyes recognized her and widened, his hair blushed pink, and Hermione thought that he was regarding her with a combination of nervousness and eagerness. Then an admiration and awe, as his eyes could not help but scan the contours of her body, and Hermione cursed herself, remembering how Muggle exercise clothes were often more revealing than a carefully picked swimsuit, especially when drenched in sweat like this.

She walked up to the awestruck boy. The seal had been broken, neither one of them could pretend anymore that they did not see each other in a sexual manner, but the least she could do was to try and repair the damage.

"We should talk," Hermione said casually to him, appearing to outsiders as nothing more than a professional discussion of their work agenda. "Meet me in my room, ten minutes before the start of the meetings." If it seemed too forward an invite, well, what other private spot away from prying ears could she come up with on a moment's notice?

Before he could respond, she heard her name being called out in the lobby.

"Ms. Granger? Would you come with me please?"

Merlin, it was a very stern looking Peter Torreys, and immediately Hermione froze in abject fear. Did they find out about last night, had there been other delegates at that speakeasy? She could explain her side of course, if she was ruined she'd bring the Cowboy down with her, a fate the man absolutely deserved. But while proof of his potion may save her from jail, it would not be enough to save her reputation. Her career. Her relationship with Harry and Ginny, with the rest of the Weasleys...Morgana forbid, her children...

The British Undersecretary did not know what to think when, upon stepping into the American Vice President's makeshift offices for their stay, she saw a very concerned looking Sunil Sharma already present and seated.

"Ms. Granger," he said, rising and bowing in an apologetic manner to her, while Peter sat down behind his desk. The American was short, bespectacled, with thinning hair, striking an image more bureaucrat than politician. Because he seemed the kind of man who knew what he was and knew that his capabilities, and its limits, would likely never exceed his current position, Hermione could only hope that whatever he was about to say to her, it would be direct, straight forward, without posturing or requests of a quid pro quo nature.

 _And if they do know,_ a terrifying voice whispered in her head, _just what would you do, how far would you go, to cover something like this up?_

"I apologize, Ms. Granger, for the abruptness, but the matter is both serious, and requires immense discretion." The American looked to the Indian wizard. "Sunil, would you continue?"

"This is somewhat awkward," Sunil began in his mixed British and Indian accent, avoiding her eyes as he began, "Hermione...sorry, Ms. Granger. But you recall last night, when we all went for drinks at O'Malleys before dinner?"

"Of course, I was there for a short period of time," Hermione agreed, wondering where he was leading her.

"Look, I'll be blunt," Peter Torreys interrupted. "Sunil believes that Mr. Morgan of the American delegation tried to poison you with a love potion. What was it again...Mr. Sharma?"

"An Amoranous spell," Sunil added, as Hermione sat up in shock. The Indian regarded her with confusion. "You...you are aware of this?"

She could barely speak, unsure whether she could allow herself to feel relief just yet. "I was just about report to you the same suspicion, Mr. Torreys." The British witch looked to her colleague. "How did you know, Sunil? Did Richard admit this to you?" It would be an incredibly dumb move, but Hermione would not put it past the Texan. Or any Texan, given her encounters with their breed the last few days.

Sunil shook his head. "You'd left before dinner..."

"Right," she agreed a bit too defensively, "Te...Mr. Lupin and I went to meet an old friend of mine from Hogwarts."

"Ms. Lovegood, I recall." Hermione nodded. "It seems that you failed to finish your wine in your haste to see your friend."

"I did?" She'd drunk less than a full glass of the spell? Merlin, just how rough a shape was she in, to behave like that without even drinking the full spell?

"Elvira finished it," Sunil continued, "after you'd left. Then, well...she made quite the scene or two later that night." His dark skin blushed in embarrassment as he continued his story. "We had to pull her off of several young waitresses, as well as Ms. Valois."

"The steakhouse was a Muggle one too," Pete added crossly, "so we had quite a bit of cleanup afterwards."

"Oh my." So she and Teddy hadn't been the Texan's only victims that night. "How's Elvira doing?"

"Absolutely mortified," the small American replied. "Guillermo sent her home for the time being, most unfortunate, she's a very talented young lady, very promising, from everything I've heard. Just not right, for Morgan to potentially ruin her career like this."

"How did you know?" It so happened that Hermione and Sunil both asked each other the same question at the same time. Sensing it was her turn to explain, Hermione chose her words carefully.

"The spell had its effect on me later last night." Hermione recalled the standard symptoms of the spell, were one not present next to someone they wanted to...well, shag their bones off. "I felt lightheaded, faint at times, nauseous in other moments. Luna and Teddy Floo'd me back to the hotel...and Luna's something of...an expert in spells, so she suspected Amoranous immediately. I traced back my actions from last night, recalled that Mr. Morgan had been extra...extra aggressive towards me at the bar. Mind you I had no proof, but the suspicion..."

"Was well deserved," Pete finished her sentence. "Rest assured we have Mr. Morgan in confinement."

"Has he confessed to anything," Hermione asked out of genuine curiosity. She'd just lied to them. She hated lying, yet she had no other choice, because all her life and career lay at stake.

"Not exactly," Sunil explained. "He'd denied it at first. But knowing him, I had my suspicions watching what was happening with Elvira, so I got Charlotte to distract him while I went into his room. Found alfalfa roots, pollen from a blue poppy..."

"Enough to convict in front of a jury," Pete continued, "as we say here in the States. Now the man's claiming he'd been set up, that someone imperious'd him."

"The nerve of that damned Cowboy," Hermione said, feeling her blood boil. Regardless of her unintentional missteps, there had been nothing mistaken about the Rick Morgan's vile actions, and how he refused to take personal responsibility even when cornered like the fat rat he was.

"Don't worry Ms. Granger," Peter said, standing up to conclude their meeting. "He's securely in our hands, he's my problem now. Richard Morgan won't be bothering you or anyone else for the duration of this conference." He looked towards Sunil. "Mr. Sharma, I most appreciate your vigilance in the matter. And Ms. Granger, it's obviously been a brutal few days for you. For what it's worth, I apologize for any troubles my fellow countrymen may have caused you."

"Fortunately I remain unaffected by his crimes," she lied. "I only hope that we can all restore Elvira's reputation after all this..."

"Do you think," she asked Sunil as they walked back to the lobby, Peter having left them, "that the Cowboy may have been behind the D'Jinn attack?"

The Indian scoffed. "Hardly. From what I could tell, that potion was pretty sloppily made, if extremely potent. Godric, it's a good thing you both only drank half a glass."

"Right," Hermione muttered more to himself. "No, it wouldn't make sense. He wanted to boff me, not off me."

But the question remained then, of who would want to do the latter to her.

* * *

A prompt ten minutes before their meetings she heard a soft and tentative knock on her door. Her young assistant entered, alternating glances between his feet and her very well concealed bosom. For some reason she found herself lost for words, even though she'd been preparing what to say to him since her run, so it was Teddy who spoke first.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry about last night...and I don't think we should tell Harry about this."

"I agree," she began, already flustered, "I mean, about the Harry part." Merlin forbid that. Not that Hermione wanted to keep secrets from her best friend; she figured that, one day, when Teddy was fully grown and had children of his own, they could all laugh about this together...many decades down the road. "But Teddy, you had nothing to be sorry for."

"I know," he agreed, his hair turning red. "The spell made you do it. But...I...I _did_ kiss you back, Hermione, even though I should have known something was wrong. Did, probably. But I still touched you, stuck my hand under your shirt."

"I did a little more than just touch you, Teddy." This time it was her turn to blush, as she remembered how good he felt, and how good it had felt under the touch of his masculine hands, Merlin, why did he have to be so physically mature, damn those Quidditch workout facilities. "I'd say we should call it even...but that doesn't seem right, does it?"

"I'm not exactly sure what it seems." Hermione had fully expected him to look at her like this during their conversation...unsure of himself, yet less unsure of himself than before, his eyes filled not just with longing, but _wanting_ , now that she had unlocked the lustful part of his crush that he'd been trying so hard to keep concealed within his loins.

"Look," she sighed, beginning her confession. "Obviously you've figured this out by now too, that what happened last night would not have happened, had some small part of me not _wanted_ it to happen."

Before he had a chance to interrupt or ask any probing questions, Hermione launched into a detailed explanation of her recent analysis of just _how_ she had come to feel some sort of attraction towards her best friend's fifteen year old godson. She did not spare herself any excuses, or withhold of her conjectures from the young man, because he deserved to know the full truth after what she'd done to him, though Hermione did take care to not delve too deeply of how she'd been affected by Ron, and the divorce.

"...so," she forced herself to conclude the most embarrassing speech of her life, "clearly we can't be in denial with each other...that there was something...something real in what I did to you...in that part of me wanted to. But just because it's real, doesn't make it right. And that's absolutely unforgivable, what I did, spell or not, because of my intent."

She was asking him for his forgiveness, if indirectly. She would ask him to hug her, except that would worsen the situation, it went without being said.

It was Teddy's turn to find himself speechless. He'd known too since potions class that an Amoranous spell did not invent feelings, yet much as he wanted to hope ever since last night that perhaps Hermione did want him on some level, that just seemed entirely impossible. Surely there was some rational explanation for it, he'd tempered his hopes since then: perhaps the spell had been made incorrectly, or adjusted, or combined with another? But here she was, confessing to him the realization far beyond his wildest dreams. Surely it couldn't be this easy?

"So...now what?"

"We pretend it never happened, and move on like it never happened." No, that didn't sound right, did it? In fact, it sounded awful and cruel. "Sorry, I think we'd both like that, but that wouldn't be realistic, would it?"

"No."

She'd considered sending Teddy home as well, but that was even more unfair to the young man. It wasn't his fault she'd developed a small set of extremely inappropriate feelings for him, nor was it his fault that the Texan's deviousness ended up creating a perfect storm for her to act upon them. And what was she supposed to tell Harry, that Teddy wasn't good at his job, screwing over a young man who'd been loyal and dutiful and as good to her as anyone had in recent memory? Alternatively, was she supposed to tell Harry the truth, that she'd 'accidentally' given young Teddy Lupin a handjob in public, and now he had to go because things were made too awkward by the fact that he might want a repeat performance from her?

As he waited for her to speak, to dictate to him how he should act, how he should feel, Teddy sighed sadly. "Merlin, the next ten months are going to really drag."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't turn sixteen until next April."

"What does that have to do with..." Hermione stopped, the sickening realization coming to her.

"That's when it'd be legal, you know, for us to do stuff," he explained to her, looking far too childish as he spoke. "I looked it up this morning..."

Merlin, she wanted to sink into her bed and never emerge. Seeing her hesitation, he continued. "That is, if you'd still want to. I kind of assumed, after last night, and what you just told me..."

"Teddy," Hermione exclaimed, rising to enunciate her point. "It doesn't matter if it's legal...and it doesn't matter what you'd want, or what I'd want..."

This wasn't going to be easy, and Hermione had been a fool to have thought it would be easy to squeeze the newly reciprocated and requited feelings of his hormonal teenage lusts back into the bottle. Like a Genie, that analogy be damned.

"Sorry, Teddy. You act so mature all the time, it's hard for me to forget sometimes that maybe you're not old enough to understand..."

"I do understand." When he did finally respond, he sounded hurt. And she sensed an underlying sort of anger in his voice, emboldened, containing traces of the man he might become someday. "You have your career, it'd cause a scandal, and you might not become Minister for Magic after all."

Once the initial anger faded, he sounded more disappointed than angry, hurt rather than enraged, and Hermione found that she felt hurt herself for what he'd insinuated. Yes, she could not afford a scandal that would destroy her career, but did he really think that politics was the only thing that mattered to her, a long shot candidacy far in the distant future the only reason she'd turn him away?

"There's Harry," she argued. "Your family. My family, our family, the fact that _we are_ family."

"We're not related," Teddy rejected her. "We're family because we love each other and we're there for each other. Not because we share any blood, you and I."

"It doesn't matter," she asserted.

"It shouldn't matter," he corrected her.

They stood at a standstill, before Hermione suddenly realized the time. "Merlin, the conference!"

"Right." Teddy abruptly turned away, and without another word both of them left her room to scramble down to the conference floor, both of them unhappy with their current state of things, and Hermione knowing that this most difficult conversation of her life was far from over, that she'd been anything but bright for believing that ten short minutes would be enough to restore her and Teddy's relationship to what it had been before that awful night.

_No, it'll never be the same. And you know some part of you is actually glad of the fact._

* * *

Never could Teddy have guessed that a day spent by Hermione's side could be so tortuous, the tantalizing sight and scent of a woman who was so close, yet so far away from his reaches. Teddy would never have guessed that he could have ever lit the flames of desire within a woman who he'd thought, until today, saw him as an nephew and no more. Not that he would have been content waiting in the wings forever, he'd sworn for years, and ever since this trip where they'd gotten to know each other better than ever, that one day, he would make his move, so to speak. After he'd graduated Hogwarts, after he'd gotten a job with the Ministry, whether as an Auror following in Harry's footsteps, or working for Hermione, he'd wanted to prove himself worthy of both her respect, and if he were truly lucky, her love.

That's why he'd been so conflicted about Ron, once he'd heard through the grapevine where the scandal of the man's affairs became even gossip amongst his Hogwarts classmates. The older he'd grown, the more cemented his feelings towards Hermione had become, the worse the third of the Golden Trio became in his eyes, a squat mediocrity who lucked and stumbled himself into marrying undeservingly the most beautiful and brilliant witch in the world. He hated Ron for hurting Hermione so badly, for causing her so much pain, yet even as a Hufflepuff Teddy could not banish that most Slytherin notion that, without this affair and divorce, he would never have his own chance one day to court the woman he loved. Of course, like everything else Ron had to fuck up his timing; by the time he would have been old enough to qualify in Hermione's eyes, chances are she would already found a new mate from a steady line of eligible suitors.

So he'd come into this trip with no plans or prospects other than to win Hermione's respect, hopefully building a foundation from which he could pursue a different sort of relationship with her years down the road. Yet, all of that had been upended by the last night's events, and her admission to him this morning that, stripped of her inhibitions completely, she would readily accept him as a bedmate at least, if not as a husband and lover and trusted confidante. The sword cut both ways, however, as Teddy knew Hermione well enough to understand that, now that she was aware of feelings she perceived as a weakness or personal failing, she would fight it as furiously as she did the Dark Lord, building a wall between them to the point where he might never even get a chance to win her over, well after she could no longer cite the excuse that he was a child. Not that he was now, either.

 _Fucking Cowboy Rick,_ Teddy cursed the man in his mind, _has to go and ruin everything._

Hermione pointedly chose to go to lunch with Peter and some of the senior delegates in order to avoid him. Not wanting to speak to anyone, not even Draco, Teddy ordered a quick sandwich up to his room, ate alone, and pouted through the rest of the afternoon. So it was to his surprise then that, immediately after the end of the day's activities, Hermione called both him and Draco to her room again.

"...the bollocks on that man," Draco mumbled as they stepped inside, "trying a damned Amoramous spell, out of all things." He gave Teddy a strange look, one that he'd noticed throughout the day, then back to Hermione. "Nothing happened between the two of you, did it?"

"Of course not," Teddy blurted out before Hermione had a chance to.

"I don't know what would make you think such a thing." She sent Teddy a thankful look because, despite how upset he'd been with her all day, his first instinct had still been to protect her. If only the rest of his species could be so noble.

"Something did happen..."

"Look," Hermione interrupted, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. "I called the two of you here because we need to salvage this coalition. Someone tried to kill me and Teddy in Morocco, and I'd suspect it could be any of the delegates representing the wizarding communities who stand to lose more than gain from an international alliance. I have my suspects, I would have put the Cowboy at the top of the list if he weren't such an incapable idiot, unless it's all a ruse, I wouldn't doubt it, one does not attain a position such as his through dumb luck alone, and no offense Draco, I don't trust blood-purists, they've been as much a bane to my existence as anyone..."

She was rambling, and it was clear that the pureblood wizard had not been paying attention to her at all.

"Salazar, Hermione, you put a move on little Teddy Lupin, didn't you?"

"Draco, are you going to listen to me or not? We have a serious problem..."

"...when you were under the spell, and now you're ashamed and little Teddy's too scared to look you in the eye..."

"Will you stop calling him _little_ Teddy, for Morgana's sake?! Clearly there's nothing small about him at this point!" Hermione audibly gasped, placing a palm over her treasonous mouth. Did she really say that? How did a man like Draco manage to constantly bring out the worst in her? Surely the gig was up, not that she ever had much of a chance to begin with.

"No one except Luna and her friend saw us," she admitted in a trifling whisper. "Merlin, Draco, you can't tell anyone, it's not that I wanted to do it."

"Of course not, you were enchanted," Draco scoffed. "And no, Hermione, I'm not some idiot Gryffindor like Harry, obviously I'm not going to say anything, if not for your sake then for my cousin's, clearly he's even more broken up about it than you are." Yet the older man still held a mocking tone upon his face as he walked up to Teddy, clapping him on the back in a fatherly manner. "What's the matter, Teddy? Was she too rough with you? Not as gentle as you'd always imagined her to be?"

"No! I mean, that's none of your business..."

"This isn't funny, Draco." Hermione turned angrily towards him, arms crossed. At least she had Teddy as an ally in this regard.

"Come on, it's a tad amusing."

"Not at all," she protested furiously. "I committed a terrible crime under that damned Texan's spell and apparently even worse crimes in my mind. And I've completely sullied Teddy's first sexual experience as something...something dirty and impure and a far cry from the kind of romantic notions I imagine he'd harbored until last night."

"First, you say?" Teddy avoided Draco's eyes, confirming his answer to the man's question.

"I raped him, Draco."

"That's a bit harsh, Hermione," he said, sitting down, though even through his demeanor it seemed to dawn upon him how serious the situation was, aware by now that the spell had induced more than a little casual pubside snogging. "I mean, we both know the boy is quite able and willing..."

"I agree with Draco," Teddy asserted, speaking for himself the first time all evening. "It was a bit embarrassing, in front of Luna and all, but it wasn't like you'd hurt me or anything."

"No offense, Teddy, but you're not old enough to give consent to something like that. Not to someone my age, anyway. _Especially_ someone my age. I mean, it'd be one thing if you were dating a Seventh year, or..."

"I beg to differ," the younger wizard responded, his voice rising in an reenactment of their morning conversation. "I happen to know exactly what I want, you know. I've known for years. Not a Seventh year girl, not some American college girl, not Victoire, like everyone wants me to go for. It's you, Hermione. I've never wanted anyone else, and I'll never want anyone else."

Hermione winced. For obvious reasons, the boy's childhood crush being no longer so harmless, and for the fact that she preferred him not to speak up like this, not because she didn't like it, but rather the opposite, that the more he spoke up for himself like a man, the less she was able to keep her determination to see him as a child and nothing else.

"Godric Hermione," Teddy continued, "would you say you were incapable when you were my age? You started Dumbledore's army, you ran a fucking resistance movement against a powerful ministry Undersecretary, you fought a damned battle against Voldemort and his crazies, sorry Draco, in the Ministry building, for Merlin's sake! Did Dumbledore believe that you or Harry or Ron were too mentally deficient and lacking to fight a goddamned war on his behalf, against the Dark Lord himself no less?"

She winced again. The young man had a point. "That's not what I meant, Teddy, that you're deficient or lacking in any way, just the opposite. And in hindsight, one can argue that there were many aspects of Professor Dumbledore's...war strategems, that were highly problematic, especially viewed through contemporary lenses..."

"But you won, didn't you? The Dark Lord's dead, uncle Draco isn't some Death Eater flunky, I wasn't killed in the crib because of what side my parents chose. Problematic or not, his results ought to matter too."

"And what would you like the results between us to be, Teddy?" Instantly she regretted asking the question, but a part of her wanted to push back at the teenager, force him to articulate what all of his meant to him, so he could realize that their situation was far more complicated than what he'd imagined all this time. "A casual fling? Scandal in the Prophet? Let's say I agree to date you after you turn sixteen. Then what? I have two children, Teddy. You're still a child yourself, are you ready to be a stepfather to them, when you're closer in age to them than me? Are you ready to deal with an unstable ex-husband? Are you ready to have all your schoolmates snicker and talk about you behind your back?"

"Yes, yes, and yes. I want to love you, Hermione. I want you to love me, and no, I don't two shits about what my classmates might think. Yes, I'd like to be a father to Rose and Hugo because I'd want to marry you, have your children...I mean, children of our own. I want to support you, like Ron never did. I want to take you to Ministry functions and brag to everyone how proud I am to have a such a brilliant woman like you by my side..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." This time it was Draco who interrupted the both of them. He approached the younger wizard, putting his arm around him again. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, cuz. I mean, a casual fling's one thing, but marriage and children? Granger's right, you're far too young to be thinking so far ahead..."

"You don't understand," Teddy protested, twisting himself away from the older man's grip. "Neither one of you would understand, neither one of you are Hufflepuffs! You don't know what it's like to love someone like we do!"

That was another thing she wanted to change, Hermione could not fail to remind herself. The idea of placing a label on children and excepting them to identify with it all their lives was far too antiquated a custom, and one of the many things she meant to change once she became Minister of Magic. _If_ she ever made it that far, considering things now...

"Look," she interrupted both of them. "There's not going to be more marriages or children for any of us if whomever is trying to kill us succeeds before the summer's over!"

It was clear that neither hers nor Draco's tactics were working, they were accomplishing nothing except further riling the young teenager. Another approach was needed. Slowly she walked over to Teddy, as if approaching a wild beast, and gently placed two hands upon his shoulders, and faced him, looking up at him into his eyes. Instantly the fight seemed to desert his body at her touch.

"Teddy, don't think I don't appreciate your feelings for me. I do, they're quite flattering, you know, and any woman would be lucky to have someone so loyal and smart and dedicated and brilliant such as you by her side. Including myself. I know that...that this is what you want today, what you _think_ you'd want..."

"It's what I've always wanted..." His protests were drowned to a whimper now, under her firm but gentle grasp.

"And I'm giving you the privilege of changing your mind one day, if you wished to." She kissed him softly on his cheek, resisting the idea that was an open secret by now, at least between the three of them, that she harbored urges to kiss him more than just platonically. "I'm not going anywhere, Teddy. Not unless they succeed in killing me...which is why I brought the two of you in here in the first place."

"I'd never let them harm you, Hermione." He spoke to her as if they were the only two people in the room, forgetting Draco's intruding presence by their side. But that wasn't the truth, was it? He'd been useless during the D'Jinn attack, and he shuddered imagining any worse attempt at her life, that she could die, and he could watch it happen and be helpless to do anything about it. "I wish I could be strong enough to properly protect you. I will be one day, I promise you."

"I don't think she needs any protecting from anyone, Lupin."

"Agreed," Hermione said, withdrawing away from the boy, and walking to her desk where her notes were gathered. "And sometimes, the best defense is a good offense..."

She went over her plans with both men. Even though none of them involved Teddy, because unlike certain former Hogwarts headmasters she wasn't willing to dangle an untrained teenage in the face of certain danger, but she wanted him in the loop regardless, out of respect for his abilities, and the fact that his life had been threatened along with hers.

"...and I'm pretty sure Chou might have a thing for blondes. I'd hate to pull Luna into this, but she'd enjoy herself, if anything, and I don't think she would have any inherent objections to Las Vegas, though you never know with her..."

All of this was based on the presumption, of course, that Draco had nothing to do with the attack. Hermione figured that if Harry had discovered anything untoward she would have heard about it by now. More likely, he'd kept quiet because he hated being wrong, and hated admitting it even more. Regardless, on the highly unlikely chance that the Malfoy scion harbored any ill intent, she could still observe how he'd act while presumably pretending to assist her, and make any merited conclusions accordingly.

"Right," Draco recited once she had finished. "I'm to cozy up to the Russians, make them think I'm as sinister and you and Harry and the Weasleys regularly make me out to be, and hopefully Ustinov includes me in whatever assassination plot he comes up with next time around. Dinner?"

"A bit more subtle than that," Hermione remarked disapprovingly, biting her lower lip while she spoke, "but that's the gist of it yes. And no thanks, I've had enough steak for the year already, I'll get something for the room."

"I'll probably just order some takeaway from downstairs," Teddy added. He had no urge to go and schmooze with the politicians if Hermione wasn't going to be there. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

"Yes, let me take a look at the menu."

"I think it's here somewhere," Teddy said, ruffling through the paperwork burying her makeshift desk. He gave Draco a pointed look indicating that he wanted some privacy, and the older man left obligingly, though not without an exasperated shaking of his head.

"Careful Granger. Stay out of my cousin's pants, or I bet he'd love to leave you a nice surprise in your tummy nine months from now."

"I'll have the arugula salad with chicken, walnuts, and vinaigrette," Hermione said, proud of herself for not having hexed Draco out the door. She had been studying the menu, trying to put off an uncomfortable conversation for just awhile longer.

"I'm sorry about how I acted," he nevertheless began, apparently more eager than her to get going. "I was rude, and being unfair to you, and I acted like, like..."

His tongue caught, so Hermione decided to help him out.

"Like a child," she asked with a knowing grin. He mumbled something unintelligible and stared at the ground, not able to imagine anything worse than this. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to see him as a child, yet he hadn't helped himself at all with the way he'd acted in front of her and Draco.

"It's alright," Hermione said gently, stroking his cheek in a motherly fashion, or she'd hoped. "What I did to you last night was unforgiveable, spell or not, and you'd have to be...like, something of an emotionless sociopath to not react strongly in some manner or another. I daresay you reacted better than most your age...even a few people twice your age I can think of, given the circumstances."

They both knew whom she was referring to, and even with all that had happened, Hermione could not forget the prat Ron had been during the Triwizard Tournament holding anything close to a candle to how Teddy had behaved all trip.

"It's just...it's hard to know what I know now, and...and not think about how I might actually have a chance with you every single minute I'm with you. Or not with you, for the matter."

"You're human," she tried reassuring him. "It's only natural for all of us think this way sometimes. But it matters more in what we choose to do Teddy, than what we think, Merlin knows that I understand that concept now more than I ever could have before. I'm no stranger to teenage crushes, Teddy, you should have seen me in Hogwarts that Fourth year, what with Ron, and Cedric, and Viktor..."

"Viktor?"

"Long story," Hermione replied, laughing at the kid's predictable jealousy. "Look, I think it's clear that no matter what, we enjoy each other's company, am I right Teddy?"

"More than anything." Merlin, was he swooning? What was it about this woman that could make him act less mature than even Victoire and her swarm of babbling friends?

"Let's try to remember that the rest of this trip, Teddy. Let's try to just enjoy each other's company, the way we had been, since before fucking Cowboy Rick tried to ruin everything for us, okay?" The swear she added on purpose, to make her message more relatable to the young man. And if she felt bad at how easily it was to manipulate a teenager like him once she'd regained her bearings, Hermione reminded herself that it was for the best, for _both_ of them. "It won't be easy, but the more difficult the fight, the more rewarding our triumph inevitably is. Trust me, I know that from personal experience."

She would use every tool at her disposal, including a not so subtle reminder that she'd triumphed over much more challenging obstacles than horny teenagers.

Teddy sighed, his defeat obvious to both of them. "The last...Merlin, has it really been less than two weeks? They've been about the best I've ever had, Hermione, and that's all because of you. It makes me feel guilty, because I shouldn't be having myself such a grand old time, especially so soon after 'Nana's passing."

"We shouldn't forget those we care for," Hermione said tenderly, "but we shouldn't dwell either. That's exactly why Ginny wanted you to come on this trip, Teddy, so that you _can_ have the time of your life, while you learn new things, meet new and different people, and see the world. This is what Andromeda would have wanted for you too, trust me. Well, everything except the being molested part. Or the D'Jinns."

"Can you kiss me, Hermione?"

"Huh?"

The request came so out of the blue, that the first emotion Hermione felt was anger, then frustration, that she'd spent so much time and effort coaxing him down, explaining to him how inappropriate his urges were, in a way that he could understand, while not letting him down completely...yet it had all just meaninglessly gone in one ear and out the other.

"I mean, just a kiss. But a real one. I mean, I've kissed two girls all my life. Once was Peyton, and I barely remember that, and that wasn't anything, didn't mean anything, and I'll probably never see her again. The second time, with you...well that's tainted by the Amoranous. I don't know when's the next time I'm going to kiss a girl, Hermione. Maybe never, if it's anyone except you...there's no one else I'd want to kiss. Especially my first...right now I'd consider both times to have an asterisk next to them, as the Muggles say. None of them are real to me, not in the real sense of the word."

Merlin, he was good, there was a some Slytherin in the man after all. Here she had been sitting pretty, thinking about how well she'd just manipulated him, then he turns the tables around on her just as quickly, first citing his dead grandmother, then bringing up the girl in Spain to get her riled up and jealous, then not so accidentally bringing up her complicity in the corruption of his moral purity, before finally appealing to her romantic side while making what ought to be construed as a harmless request, without the surrounding context.

And the playful glint in his eyes suggested that, if he wasn't completely aware of everything she thought he was doing, he wasn't completely clueless to it either.

_Harmless, right. They can't send me to jail for just a smooch, but Harry would probably try anyway, and he's not without connections in the Ministry, and elsewhere._

"Just one kiss," she relented, because the boy's logic made sense, it hadn't been fair to rob him of what should have been a very special experience. And because she wouldn't have minded it either to find out, if only out of sheer curiosity, and nothing more, as to whether Teddy Lupin's lips would taste as good as they had under the haze of the Amoranous. "Nothing more."

"Agreed," Teddy said, approaching her with an almost discomforting closeness. Awkwardly he set his hands by her hands, touching but not gripping, as if they were about to enter into a formal dance, and Hermione noted with relief that they stood far away from her very warm and cozy and tempting bed. "We'll leave the talk of marriages and engagement rings for tomorrow."

"Oh come here, you rascal." Without giving him the chance to say any more infuriating words, Hermione pulled him forcefully towards her, aggressively capturing his lips with hers without preamble. It did not take him long to respond in kind, thrust his tongue against hers, nibbling at her lips, as Hermione felt his grip upon her body tighten in a way that was no longer chaste. Nor was hers, for the matter, as she pressed her palms against his taut, lean hips, and wondered just how strong that lower back of his was.

He tasted like strawberries and mint, coincidentally the afternoon refreshments served during the conference, and Hermione imagined that her breath probably reeked of coffee.

The British witch pulled away, flush and out of breath, many seconds after she would have originally intended to, afraid to look him in the eye. "Godric, Teddy," she mumbled without thinking, "if I didn't know better I'd say you'd had enough practice where none of this would count as your quote unquote first."

"Well, I got myself a hell of a practice round last night."

"Oh shut up."

Turning to look at him, she saw that the delicate strands of his hair had turned a brilliant shade of gold, as if touched by the not so mythical Midas himself. Hermione could not help but lift one arm to run her hands through those brilliant strands, and before she knew it, she'd snatched at his lips again, if only to shut him up, she told herself. After another half minute of snogging, maybe more, she released him again, this time for good.

"Don't say a word," Hermione scolded at him, even if she could not keep her lips from curling up in a delighted grin. "Now go get me my dinner, you incorrigible prat!"

"Yes ma'am," Teddy exclaimed happily, bouncing off away on his feet as if he were about to take off and fly away like a dragon. With a huff, Hermione sat herself down her bed. That had been close, she'd realized, far too close, and no one needed to know just _how_ close she'd been to _not_ letting him go and kicking him out of her bedroom.

"Oh," the incorrigible prat added, sticking his head through her door before it had fully shut. "That was more than 'just one' kiss, for the record."

Her wand waved, and all the pillows on her bed flew in formation at his head, bouncing off his face, though her light hex only caused him to laugh infectiously, and her along with him, yet another self-inflicted defeat upon her weakening defenses.

"Malfoy's right," Hermione muttered to herself. "I need to get laid. Brightest witch my ass, I might as well be the horniest witch in all the world right now." Perhaps it wasn't the worst idea that she ought to spend more time with a wizard closer to her age, one such as Sunil Sharma, rather than the fifteen year old Teddy Lupin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, these chapters keep ballooning in size, don't they?
> 
> First off, I'd like to thank all of you who've kept with this story for so long. For those of you who have, I'd love to know your thoughts on it thus far!
> 
> Secondly, I'd like to hint at what's to come. We're about a third of the way through this story. I have two more planned after this one, all involving the same 'ship. Obviously this first installment is focused on Teddy and Hermione's burgeoning relationship. The second story will be more of an ambitious sort of tale, an adventure/thriller type of story perhaps in the vein of a Da Vince Code, or similar historical thrillers in that genre. All I can say about the third, is that it will conclude the series, and feature a more ensemble cast, perhaps involving more characters from the coming generation as they grow older.


	8. Las Vegas

"...oh, and you don't have to worry about Ro spilling your secret, 'Mione, I obliviated him as soon as we got home, though he said he wants let him know when you and Teddy finally shag."

Luna Lovegood regarded her friend and assistant with so much disappointment in their lack of a liaison that, were it anyone else, Hermione would think that the woman had a fetish for such things. The idea that it could happen sans spell was absolutely preposterous too, of course, aside from a completely innocuous kiss request Hermione granted only to be a nice person.

"As I've told you again and again, Luna, Teddy and I have resolved our...feelings towards each...towards the matter, in a mature and reasonable manner." Hermione frowned. "You didn't have to obliviate your boyfriend for my sake, Luna."

Not that she secretly minded, though she wouldn't admit as much to anyone, not even Teddy. One less set of loose lips that could ruin her life, family, and career wasn't the worst prospect, and plenty of politicians less prominent than her had done more to cover up more far more nefarious crimes. Not that any of it justified her actions, or those done in her name.

"Obviously I'll have to obliviate him again when I tell him that you and Teddy've finally done the deed. Honestly I think Ro likes it, being obliviated, that is. It might be a _sexual_ thing for him..."

The blonde woman glared evilly at the couple who was definitely not a couple, as if they all shared a secret and open sexual circle after her unfortunate slip up earlier that week. Hermione sighed. There was no use trying to corral Lovegood, the woman would say and do what she wanted regardless and besides, she was here in Las Vegas cozying up to one of the most powerful wizards in Asia for her sake.

"Any luck with Igor, Draco?"

"The man's shady, for sure," he replied, not happy at all about his assignment. He hated having to go and suck up to another wizard, however powerful. People approached a Malfoy offering fealty, not the other way around. "If there's skeletons in his closet, it's more financial than anything, he keeps bringing up vaults in Switzerland."

Hermione frowned. Obviously she did not expect the prying of secrets from her would be enemies to be easily accomplished, and if she were honest with herself, she did not really expect Draco or Luna to unearth some great conspiracy; at best, they could glimpse for her small clues she could take and further piece together the puzzle, if said puzzle even existed.

"Greed is an effective motive," she commented. "Igor and his compatriots may object to the audit and oversight clauses of the charter. He's definitely been my biggest headache so far, more than even Chou, he's threatened to withdraw four times this week, although it makes sense, I've a feeling at this point that Chou would just sign the charter and then ignore its directives whenever they feel like it."

The witch trailed off, sensing that she was speaking more to herself than anyone else...which meant that to everyone else, she was rambling. Indeed, her observations proved her conjectures accurate, Luna was studying intently her hotel fridge, probably looking for traces of some invisible freezer dwelling creature, Draco failed to stifle a yawn just now, and Teddy...well, Teddy continued staring at her intently with his soft puppy dog eyes, though Hermione figured that he would have been happy to hear her rattle off something as banal Muggle dictionary definitions so long as he could hear her speak.

"Any updates with your research, Hermione," the young orphan obligingly asked her.

"It's frustrating," she vented. "There's precious little knowledge about D'Jinns documented out there, most of it was destroyed in the fire of Alexandria, and hardly replaced in the millennia since. I've studied every documented account of D'Jinns and humans, most of the time they reserve their attention for Muggles, as they don't seem to like tangling with someone who can actually ward them off. Of the witches and wizards...I can't find any commonalities with the victims, every encounter appears to be entirely random, aside from the unfortunate luck of a victim wandering onto a D'Jinn's particular 'territory.' But then, hundreds or thousands or millions of people might be in that territory, and the D'Jinn wouldn't be bothered to surface, much less dozens of them...and I've found no records of any trace or mark of some kind that someone who'd want us dead could have placed on us, to attract them to us...which is not to say they wouldn't exist, but only that no witch or wizard in the last thousand years have recorded its existence in any shape or form..."

Hermione threw her notes down in exasperation, sorely tempted to find a time-turner. Whatever spare time she didn't have during the past week she'd spent browsing through thousands of pages of tomes, and for what? Nothing, zilch, nada. It wasn't that she minded the work, and yes, some of the lore she'd read had been very interesting, but the Undersecretary of Foreign Magical Affairs did not get to her current position by wasting time pursuing dead ends.

"I did some research too." They all perked up at Teddy's voice.

"You didn't have to," Hermione chided him. "I told you, you've plenty of other work, leave it to us..."

"I wanted to," he said simply, summoning his own set of notes. "Did you know, Hermione, that out of all the twenty-seven Ministers for Magic who married at one time or another, twenty five of them had a Hufflepuff for a spouse. This list includes Artemisia Lufkin who, as you all know, was the first female Minister, as well as Nobby Leach, the first Muggle to ever reach the post."

He presented his findings proudly to Hermione, who rolled her eyes while the rest of them sniggered at her expense.

"This funny to you, Malfoy," Hermione snarled, pointedly ignoring the fact that her friend Luna was giggling too.

The teenager continued, feigning obliviousness to her predicament. "Oh, and Perseus Parkinson married his wife when she was sixteen, and he was seventy-nine. That's a sixty-three year age difference, Hermione! Makes the eighteen years between us feel like we could've been schoolmates together, practically..."

"Yes, I'm glad you can do math, Teddy...and it's more like nineteen years between us, if you actually round mathematically, and I hardly think Perseus Parkinson is a proper example of whom I, nor anyone, should ever follow in any way, shape, or form, and you're not ignorant Teddy, you know the eighteenth century was a completely different era..."

Hermione knew that she was acting more flustered than she actually felt, mostly for the benefit of her two friends. It seemed that after she'd given Teddy a taste of what he'd wanted back in New York, they then settled into a rather comfortable impasse. His work ethic remained impeccable, his demeanor anything but professional when before her colleagues, but once alone or in the company of Draco, and now Luna, the only two wizards in the know about their incident, the teenager now felt comfortable in openly flirting with her.

Yet, somehow the young man knew exactly how to straddle the line, never pushing, never insinuating at anything openly sexual or too forward. It almost felt like he was treating it as a joke now, using his crush on her, and Draco's knowledge of the fact, to repeatedly tease and embarrass her in front of the infuriating pureblood. All in an innocuous way, of course, and Hermione found Teddy's newest advances to be amusing at times, endearing at other times, and if she could admit it in her heart, not at all unwelcome. It was healthier for her to just accept them and enjoy the attention, Hermione figured, rather than repressing and bottling up her emotions, only to delay their inevitable release later, and perhaps in a way she could not control.

"Well," Hermione summarized, ready to kick everyone out of her room so she could get herself dressed and ready, "we'll keep up our vigilance. Luna, be careful with Chao, but I doubt he'd try anything too improper, everyone's on edge already because of the inmate formerly known as the Cowboy. Teddy, stop aspiring to become nothing more than a trophy husband, you can do much better than that. And Draco, you've got Teddy for the night, right? I assume you can show him all your familiar stomping grounds."

"You've been to Las Vegas before," Teddy asked. This gaudy city did not appear to be in the vein of his sophisticated cousin's style. "Was it for work?"

"If you call his stag party work," Hermione remarked with a smirk. It was someone else's turn to be tortured by the nice young lad. Draco groaned and rolled his eyes at Hermione, indicating that he meant to devise some kind of payback for this secret of his that she'd just revealed.

"You're going to have to tell me all about it." Then he looked over at Hermione, concerned. "What about you, Hermione? Are you not coming out with us?"

The brunette witch shook her head hurriedly. "I'm so behind on everything, Teddy. Lots of work to catch up with. As tempting as the City of Sin is on a Saturday night..."

"Your Aunt Hermione would rather spend it in bed with her two favorite shag buddies," Draco said, finishing her excuse, "books and paperwork. Come on," he said, dragging his young cousin out of the room, "let's have a boy's night without the no fun chaperone nagging at us."

"But I want our chaperone to nag me all night long," Teddy protested once they were out of earshot from the two women, and Draco shook his head. The boy was under some sort of spell alright. While Draco had thought mere days ago that a little heartbreak was healthy for a lad his age, he could no longer be sure that the boy's pursuit was going to lead to a dead end, now that apparently the woman had more perversity to her tastes than he would have ever guessed. Merlin, it was one thing to be Granger's work friend, but to actually have to deal with the woman as part of his family...

* * *

Teddy swore he'd never seen Draco so giddy before, walking from one gaming table or another, wizards and witches placing bets on all sorts of magical sports and activities of chance he'd never heard of before. Even the lower Muggle levels excited his cousin to no end, and that was very unlike any Malfoy he'd ever known or heard of.

"Must have been a great stag party, huh?"

"Oh yeah," the wizard he considered an uncle exclaimed, eyes wide. "Look at all the women here, Teddy, the most beautiful witches in the world. Salazar, even the Muggle women are to die for, and none of them give two shits about hurting Harry Potter's feelings if they make a move on you, Lupin. Half of them might not even care about your age, and the other half, well, just show them that fake passport of yours. Or morph yourself a mustache and ask them to go on a mustache ride."

"Is that what you did when you were here?"

Draco Malfoy shook his head dismissively. "Theo, oh he had some pickup lines that were absolutely ridiculous. Nine times out of ten, he got the shit slapped out of him, but the man somehow wrangled himself a threesome our last night here, swears he didn't pay for it either. Theo Nott, out of all people! And Blaise...I'm not sure any of us saw him all trip."

The man was positively floating, pink drink in one hand, eyes wandering from one set of luscious cleavage to the next. Teddy could admit, the women were stunning. Beautiful, not like Hermione, but beautiful in a sexual way. Not like Hermione though. Their tits might be bigger, their rears plumper...yet everything about each and one of these high flying gals with their fancy, skin tight dresses seemed absolutely fake to him.

"He was at the blackjack tables," Teddy asked. Blaise Zabini had a reputation as a massive gambler, at least according to Harry and Ginny.

"Strip club," Draco answered instead. "Practically slept there all trip. Flint shared a hotel room with him, you know, and he swore that Blaise's bed was completely untouched from beginning to end."

"And you," Teddy asked, genuinely curious. Same as Hermione, he'd seen a completely different side of his uncle all trip as they went from one so-called networking event to the other, but while the pureblood might have a few extra cocktails every few nights, Teddy never saw the man actually lose control. Not like Hermione did, but that hadn't been her fault, had it?

"I had a good time," Draco admitted. "I flirted. I danced, imagine that. Chatted up this Irish lass on her hen party. But the rest of my friends had themselves much more of a trip than me."

Teddy humphed incredulously. "You expect me to believe that? That _you_ were the best behaved out of your Slytherin pack?"

"Merlin's honest truth," the older wizard swore, raising his right hand in protest. "Honestly the trip was more for them than me. Really I missed Astoria the entire trip. Would've gone back and seen her, if Blaise didn't break the Floo the moment we checked in just to prevent me from doing that exact thing."

"You must have known then, that she was the one." His eyes floated dreamily, and Draco knew he was certainly not thinking about Astoria Malfoy when he spoke.

"You've got it bad, don't you Lupin?"

He shrugged. It wasn't as if he were unaware of it. Or Draco, now that all their secrets lay out in the open. "I'm gawking at some of the most beautiful in the world in this city. And yes, they're all really hot. If you held a wand to my head and threatened me with a Cruciatus yeah, it wouldn't kill me to jump into bed with one of them. But I look at each and every of them, and all I can think, is that they're not Hermione. That's what happened too in Salamanca, I could have gone back with Peyton to her flat, she was practically begging me to, but I just couldn't do it."

The young man expected his uncle to laugh at him or ridicule him, but saw rather that Draco's eyes had strayed, no longer present and ogling every lady in the floating casino.

"Do you know who I once thought I'd marry, Teddy?"

"Not Astoria?" Teddy did not know this about his cousin, that he'd pursued any women besides his current wife, with the exception of some Parkinson floozy in Hogwarts. Draco shook his head.

"Katie Bell."

"Never heard of her," he remarked confusedly. "Should I have?"

"Went and married a Muggle husband and moved to Germany with him, actually," Draco reminisced, almost successful in concealing the disapproval in his voice. "She was a year above me. Gryffindor, so she flew around with Potter and their crew. Damned good at Quidditch, that's how I first met her actually, got bruised up plenty by that girl."

"I see you had a thing for older women too," Teddy ribbed his cousin.

"Yes, exactly the same thing Lupin, a one year difference versus eighteen, it's a wonder you pass any of your classes with that logic, much less earn prefect." A scantily clad cocktail waitress walked by, and Draco casually exchanged his empty glass for another lime green concoction while slipping a Galleon down the top of her dress. "Anyway, even during school I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't all bad to look at. Pretty ruthless for a Gryffindor too, at least on the Quidditch pitch. Never had a chance to think too much about it though, the war kind of got in the way, the whole swearing fealty to Voldemort thing. Afterwards," he took a stiffer drink, "I took that job at the ministry, you see, because our family had been so completely disgraced, I wasn't going to let them shame me into oblivion, I was going to prove that a Malfoy could walk proudly about in this new world, same as the last one. I was going to spite the Ministry and the bastards who defeated us by having the gall to actually work for them."

"Must've made you Mr. Popular."

"You can imagine it. They all hated me, never looked me in the eye, a few prats actually had the gall to spit at me. Katie too. Well, she never spit on me...not till later, at least, and for much different reasons. But she'd hated me in school, and there was no reason for her to think any differently...especially with everything I did during Sixth Year. But then she saw that I'd changed. That I wasn't the same brat from Hogwarts. That I took my abuse and worked hard and when I got my first promotion three months later, it wasn't because of my family name because hell, most the wizarding world wanted me locked in Azkaban rather than working twenty floors below Shacklebolt's office...but because I'd earned it. She was the first out of all of them, even Granger, to accept that a man can change. Who accepted me for who I was, not who I had been. Of course, I'd made it somewhat obvious by then that I was head over heels in love with her, but the fact that she didn't pour her coffee over my head the first time I asked her out was something."

"You asked her out?"

"It took a few dozen tries," Draco admitted sheepishly. "But yes, we dated for some time. Almost a year, actually. I still remember the look on their faces, Potter and Weasley and all them prats when we walked hand in hand to the Yule party together. Your precious Hermione was actually happy for us, that's how I knew she was different from the rest of her lot...but I digress. Katie didn't give a shit what any of them thought. If she chose to be with me, then she was going to be with me, damn all the rest of them." He laughed. "That's the kind of attitude that gets you to marry a Muggle, I suppose."

"What happened?" They'd reached a large water fountain where the spurts of liquids of all colors ran up, down, sideways, and in all directions. Below the glass pavement, the tops of the Muggle casinos appeared as small as ants on a sidewalk.

"We got along great. We liked each other, we liked each other a lot. But both of us came to the realization at one point, that we didn't love each other. We agreed to remain friends, but life happens, you know. She went to Germany, I became a recluse for a few years..." His pale eyes bore into Teddy's soul, and the younger man could not recall ever having a conversation with his cousin that was so open and sincere. "Katie was my first love. But most of the time, first loves fade, unless you live inside a fairy tale."

"Not all of the time," Teddy said defiantly, thinking about Harry and Ginny. Harry's parents. Ron and Hermione...well, that was a first love he was grateful fell short of fairy tale status, in hindsight. "I know you don't believe me, Draco. You think I'm some dumb kid, both you and Hermione. Maybe I am, when it comes to a lot of things. But not Hermione. I've known..."

"You didn't let me finish," Draco interrupted, preventing the boy from embarking on another tiresome soliloquy. "I was broken up about Katie for some time, actually. Even if we had parted amicably, it still hurts, you wonder if you were good enough for her, if you'd be good enough for anyone. I quit my job at the ministry...thought about travelling, actually, going away for awhile. Then the Greengrass's had their Solstice Ball, and I had to go, out of obligation, really, my mother insisted. And there I saw her, Astoria, looking like I'd never seen her look before, a shy and bratty schoolgirl no more."

This was a story Teddy was more familiar with.

"She'd been two years below me at Hogwarts, you see. Doesn't make a difference a lot of cases, but it did to me...I was so preoccupied with Quidditch, and embarrassing Potter...and all that Dark Lord war stuff, I never paid much attention to the lower years. Daphne insists her sister always had a thing for me, but I never noticed her, she was just another shy little twerpy girl, no different in my eyes from any first year. Then, she grew up, and trust me...I noticed."

Draco was clearly trying to encourage him, talk him out of his slump, but if anything his story had an even more deflating effect on the young man.

"I'm not sure I can wait that long, Draco. Especially having touched her...having tasted her. Knowing that she actually _wants_ me back."

"But if our beloved 'Mione acted as easily on those feelings as easily as you'd hope, she wouldn't be the same Hermione Granger you love, would she?" Seeing the younger man's shoulders sag, Draco clapped him on his back to bring him back to Earth. Merlin, did he have to constantly do Potter's job for him, now that Andromeda had passed? "Trust me, Lupin. You've a better head start in the Granger race than practically any other wizard in Britain, or the world, for the matter. I'm not saying I think that someone her age is appropriate for you, whether now, or five years down the road. But if you're meant to be, you're meant to be, sooner or later."

"But what if life's not a fairy tale?"

Draco noticed that his words had not resulted in the cheering effect that he'd hoped. Following the gaze of the teenager's eyes, Draco followed his line of sight towards a fancy looking dining establishment by the adjacent casino, and even he groaned when he saw the object of Teddy's consternation.

"Oh no, Hermione," he muttered despondently. "Not in front of Lupin."

There she sat on the restaurant veranda, dressed and made up like Teddy had never seen her before, giggling, glowing, her presence sparkling next to the duller presence of Sunil Sharma, their hands intertwined on the table. Her lips were ruby red like her dress, eyelashes long and curvy, the sound of her light laughter still the most delightful sound Teddy Lupin could ever imagine, except it was directed towards another.

He wasn't sure how long he stood here, staring at her, before she noticed them. Probably not long, else Draco would have dragged him away before her eyes flashed in recognition, and she waved at the both of them in a friendly, casual manner before returning her attentions to the Indian wizard.

"I," he muttered, stumbling away in some random direction he could not discern. "I don't think I feel too well. I think I'm going to head back up to the room."

"Teddy, Teddy..." His older cousin trailed after him, desperately trying to think of words to console him when he was clearly inconsolable at this point. "Look, Teddy, it was a fun thought, but you had to realize..."

"Stop," Teddy turned, and practically ordered the older wizard. He noticed his hand was poised by his hip, ready to draw his wand. Fuck the Trace, fuck Hogwarts, fuck everything, he was not about to be lectured to right now. "She lied to me. She's...just leave me alone. I don't need a Death Eater lecturing me on how I should live my life."

* * *

"I have to say, Hermione, I was quite surprised when you invited me out for dinner tonight."

"Surprised," she asked, trying her best to sound seductive, sophisticated, alluring. "I'm surprised you're surprised that I wouldn't want to spend time getting to better know such a brilliant, handsome, and kind-hearted wizard such as yourself."

Sunil blushed nervously, and Hermione wondered whether she'd overdone it. It had been decades since she'd tried to seduce someone, as if those schoolgirl attempts with Ron even counted. Merlin, she'd just been drawing lessons from Teddy, hadn't she, and while hopeless and unironic flattery might not sound absolutely bonkers coming from a hapless teenager, a grown woman and powerful diplomat to boot probably should not be imitating her fifteen year old assistant in the art of courting.

Not that she planned to court Sunil too seriously. First off, there was no need to overcomplicate things with a critical colleague and ally, not until the coalition was finally set in stone. But it didn't hurt to dangle her lure, as Luna called it earlier, when her friend had helped her get ready for this date. Hermione reminded herself not to take too much of Luna's advice, else she'd be in Teddy's bedroom by now, rather than enjoying a nice sushi dinner with Sunil Sharma.

"My, Ms. Granger. If you'd buttered up Ustinov and Chou like this the past week, our charter would be signed, sealed and delivered by now." He crossed his arms and regarded her skeptically. "What are you trying to get from me, Hermione?"

"Some pleasant company, for a start. From someone who isn't a child, or tried to torture and kill me when we were children."

Sunil chuckled. "Your British wizarding politics make Delhi look like child's play."

She hadn't meant to put Teddy down like that. But Hermione figured that if this was something she did want to pursue, a _huge_ if, by the way, it would do her well to assure the older wizard that, despite the fact that the young man had barely left her side the last two weeks, she certainly harbored no impure intentions for a boy much less than half her age.

_Are you trying to convince him, or yourself?_

"It's not that bad these days. Believe it or not, having rich Malfoy scion as an ally does me wonders in keeping a lot of the other purebloods at bay. Not that politics is the only reason we're friends, he's not a bad person, the war changed him for the better. You can't say that for a lot of people."

"I understand." His eyes probed at hers curiously, likely trying to glean towards her true intentions for this dinner invite, disbelieving that a woman like her may choose to pursue a social life outside of work or family. "You know, I did hear about what happened between you and Mr. Weasley, you would not believe how much our tabloids love to delve into every sordid detail in your area of the world."

"Well," Hermione said shyly, enjoying her wine and the spacious views of the city below and the dry desert mountains behind them, "we did colonize your people for a few hundred years. Basking in our failures is probably the most harmless sort of payback I can imagine."

"We better get all our enjoyment now," Sunil said with a laugh. "I can't imagine there'll be any failures out of London with Minister Hermione Granger in charge. Or the rest of the world, for the matter."

They both laughed, and he went to pick up his glass of wine, but his right hand ended up atop of hers instead. His fingers felt nice, coarse and strong and, most importantly, belonging to a fully grown man. Sunil Sharma was a very westernized wizard, having actually spent three years studying in Hogwarts before returning to his native India about half a decade before her and Harry and Ron had first boarded the train to the Scottish castle. They would have just missed each other by a year even had the former Ravenclaw completed a full stint of education in the British Isles, and Hermione reminded herself to ask Hagrid next time she visited the school whether he remembered Sunil as a young lad; surely they would have bonded over one of the old gamekeepers favorite pets during his time there.

Then she startled, noticing two sets of very familiar eyes regarding them from the outer air plaza. _Merlin, Malfoy, you were supposed to take him to the lower city,_ although she was not without blame herself, the open seating the hostess offered them too tempting to resist. All Hermione could think to do, without attracting too much attention, much less invite a scene, was to withdraw her hand from Sunil's tentative grasp and give her friends a friendly wave.

"Your crew," Sunil asked casually.

"I hope Draco doesn't ruin Teddy too much tonight." In the side of her eye she thought she saw Teddy stalking off, with Draco hurriedly chasing after him. It would not do for Sunil to notice anything untoward, and start asking questions about the complex inner workings of the British delegation at the moment, so quickly she asked him the first question she could think of off the top of her head. "So Sunil, I've always wondered, why did you only attend Hogwarts for three years? What made you return?"

"My uncle Navi would probably disown me for just sitting at this table with you, you know."

Hermione waited for the punchline, but it never came, as the Indian wizard's demeanor turned serious.

"The Sharmas are one of the oldest pureblood clans in Northern India, perhaps not that different from your Malfoys or Lestranges, except there's a lot more of us, many branches of the family. My branch of the family is one of the few that are...less rigid, when it comes to politics, but we're in the minority."

"I see." Not ignorant to Indian blood politics, she had wondered how a man from a family of such repute could have become one of her more staunch allies.

"My parents sent me to Hogwarts because they wanted me to receive a more liberal education under Albus Dumbledore than what had been offered in my country at the time. But they died in...in an accident in the wilds the summer after my Third Year. My uncle Navi became my legal guardian after that, and...well, let's just say he wasn't so open-minded about sending me to study in a school with...well, Muggle borns such as yourself."

"I'm so sorry." _Smooth, Hermione, smooth, making the poor man dredge up his tragic history with your careless questions._

"It's fine. I survived, didn't I, without going all Voldemort on everyone. Hated every minute of it though." He looked around them in obvious distaste. "That's why I started the sanctuary. I despise the beliefs of most of my family, but to openly oppose them in the Magical Parliament? I don't know, they're still family, and certain traditions and taboos remain important where I'm from. So I have my name, reputation, a decent inheritance...I figured that if I was too much of a coward to use all that to help my fellow witches and wizards, well, then magical creatures in peril wasn't a bad second option to fall back on."

Merlin, it was as if some nefarious wizard concocted this man in a potions lab precisely for her to fall for. Compared to Teddy, created as a nefarious temptation in the same lab as precisely the last man she should ever pursue. So why was she thinking about Teddy while on her date with what should have been her dream man? Why was she dreading the prospect of seeing him again, to feel the hurt he'd just experienced now directed back at her, to have to explain to him exactly why she needed to start forming more relationships with wizards her own age?

_I'm not dating Teddy. I don't need his permission to go on a date with a man who's actually my age, I don't owe him anything, except to be a good guardian to him, and to definitely not snog him again, much less do anything worse._

"It's amazing, isn't it," she said, ignoring her inner discomfort, "there are so many ways we can go out into this world and help people and creatures, yet so few of us do it."

A bland cliché. That was the best she could do? It was odd that she'd just found herself unexpectedly unsure of what to say after Sunil had just spilled to her his life story, but then everyone and their non-Muggle mothers already knew her biography, didn't they?

"But it's not so simple, is it? Doing good requires more than merely goodwill, but the continued fortitude to keep facing down all who would try and stand in your way. I'm sure you've had plenty of experience yourself; winning the war is one thing, winning the peace is something else, and yet both things you've achieved with your usual brilliance."

"I wouldn't say I deserve that much credit," Hermione demurred. "Harry was the one who killed Voldemort, after all, even if I had to help him do his share of thinking, he'd been the one who'd been willing to make the sacrifices. As to the peace, I do my part, but you'd be surprised how beneath that charming countenance, Kingsley has a spine of steel...and between you and me, a willingness to get his hands far dirtier than what I might be willing to tolerate."

"Hmm," Sunil laughed off, "try telling that to Chou and Ustinov. Don't play coy with me, Miss Hermione, we've all seen you in action. So has all the pureblood scions of your country, I'm sure. The Parkinsons, Lestranges, Notts and Malfoys...I have to say it's brilliant, what you did to them. Especially old Lucius, that man always gave me the creeps, yet you have his son serving as your willing parrot."

Suddenly she found herself on the defensive, no longer feeling so at ease with her handsome colleague. "Draco has a mind of his own, and I've certainly never imposed any undue influence on him. He's changed, and I'll give him full credit for growing as a person on his own." The man's short relationship a generous soul like Katie Bell didn't hurt, and though Astoria Greengrass was a pureblood, Hermione could only guess that loving someone with her condition had gifted him a sense of empathy he'd never possessed as a child. "As to Lucius Malfoy, I have no idea what you're inferring towards."

"Come on," Sunil said casually. "An accident?" He held his fingers up to imitate quotation marks. "An explosion in an underground cave? Seems mighty convenient for the prickliest thorn in you and your minister's side..."

She exploded. How could he think such a thing of her? War was one thing, but murdering a political rival? Then somehow blackmailing his son as some kind of imperious'd puppet. Just what kind of human being did Sunil actually think she was?

"I don't know where you might have picked up on such foul rumors, but believe me that I speak for Kingsley and myself that there is absolutely no truth to them. Kingsley would never even consider such a thing without consulting me and other members of the Order, and neither I nor anyone else for the matter would even allow such an...an assassination attempt as you're suggesting! The man has always had a fascination with dark artifacts, and everyone knows how perilous that hobby can be."

"Alright, alright, I believe you." The older wizard looked away with regret, realization dawning that he'd just spoiled what had been almost a romantic mood between the two.

Was this what the rest of the delegations thought of her? That she was a ruthlessly cold-blooded murderer? It wasn't the worst reputation to have, if Hermione could be honest with herself, had she known of it she could have better used such a repute to more forcefully threaten her way through the negotiations. But it wasn't her, it wasn't her way, it wasn't the honest truth, and for the matter, she wondered whether this was why her anonymous opponents were now resorting to trying to kill her in turn, rather than merely opposing her in the political sphere.

"Most of the harshest measures were taken immediately after the war anyway, when I was in Australia," she muttered, forcing herself to calm, realizing that her outburst was anything but diplomatic.

She'd needed that sabbatical. Hermione remembered that year of her life fondly. It had been difficult, reconciling with her parents after reversing the memory spell, but worth it in the end. They'd spent that year as a real family in a way not since before her First Year at Hogwarts. Together they swam in the coral reef, drove days without a care in the world, camped with the kangaroos in the Outback, and dallied away precious days doing absolutely nothing on the endless sandy beaches. Of course, that had all come at a price.

Ron had not taken her leave well. She'd naively thought he would understand at the time, that he'd need his own recuperation time with his copious family. Not for the first time did Hermione wonder just how much damage that off year had inflicted upon her marriage, perhaps fatally snuffing their relationship in the crib without either one of them knowing it at the time. Only too recently had she come to understand that Ron had interpreted her year away as proof that she needed him, indeed, loved him, less than he loved her, planting one of the many seeds of his insecurities which eventually drove his reckless behavior.

Meanwhile in London, Shackleford played hardball with the Notts and Lucius Malfoys of the world, threatening to expand the Wizengamot and fill it solely with survivors of the war, preferably those who had lost family or relatives to the Death Eaters and Snatchers, until an unwritten truce emerged whereby representatives of the twenty-eight and their staunchest allies agreed to withdraw from the wizarding scene for at least a generation, from the Ministry to the Board of Hogwarts, rather than face far worse punitive measures for choosing the wrong side of a war two times over. Hermione doubted she would have objected to any of Kingsley's courses of actions at the time, but she was also grateful that she had not had to bear witness or carry out those directives firsthand, not in the least in that it allowed her to pursue her career in the Ministry without the taint of the postwar battles upon her shoulders.

"My apologies," Sunil conceded, breaking up her memories, fond and not so fond. "It was my mistake to bring politics into this. I'd simply assumed that everything they'd told me about you was true."

Hermione looked about the restaurant, wondering if there was a server nearby that could box up her food. Her response to Sunil was curt and to the point, without being rude. "That would be very presumptuous of you, wouldn't it?"

It had been a mistake, Hermione rued as she walked up to her room later that night. Sunil had not meant any harm with his remarks, he'd been trying to compliment her, in his own way. But dating was apparently as terrifying a game as war and politics, one she was far from ready for yet, and one she definitely could not afford to mix with the culmination of her life's work.

Now, obligation or not, she had to go explain to Teddy why she'd lied to him and hurt him for no good reason at all.


	9. Las Vegas

She rapped on his door several times without a response. From inside Teddy's room Hermione could hear the sound of the Muggle television, so she decided to persist.

"I have leftover sushi," she offered gently. "It's gourmet, it's really good. If you don't want to talk, then I'll just leave this by your door."

Still nothing, and Hermione bent down to leave the food for him as promised when she growled and changed her mind. Again, she reminded herself that she owed him nothing where it came to her personal life, and wasn't about to let him get away with thinking he could pull a temper tantrum on her watch. The witch banged again on the door, this time more forcefully.

"Teddy Lupin, I'm coming in whether you like it or not. You have five seconds to make sure you're decent."

Because he was her ward, she had access to the spells to unlock his hotel room, if need be. And if this were a frivolous use of her magical privileges, screw it, she's had a rough enough night already, and the last thing she needed were unspoken conflicts and resentments simmering and threatening to boil over in the rough days ahead. Counting down firmly the numbers out loud, Hermione cast her wand and the door flew open.

Teddy Lupin's room smelled like...like pizza? The Muggle TV played some Muggle sporting game, basketball, she recognized. At first, Hermione would have thought the room was empty besides the box of half eaten box of pizza on Teddy's bed, before seeing an incongruous lump of angsty teenager hiding under the linen sheets. Taking off her very uncomfortable heels, she alternating between several ideas on how to start this most uncomfortable of conversations, from apologizing, to chiding the young man for acting immaturely, or more likely some action in between, Hermione instead set her leftovers on the hotel desk, did the same to the nearly spilled pizza box sprawled upon his bed, then waved her wand to sort through Teddy's dirty clothes, placing each set into the laundry bags provided by the hotel.

"I know," the unhappy young man's muffled voice emerged from underneath his covers. "I'm acting like a child. You win, I lose. I hope he treats you well, and I hope I'm still invited to the wedding."

Resisting the urge to place her hands against her hips in a matronly manner, Hermione instead sat down on the bed next to the grouchy lump.

"First off," she finally began, "let me assert to you that I am a grown woman who has every right to pick and choose the company she keeps, whether in a romantic manner, or otherwise." She then conceded. "But I shouldn't have lied to you about it."

She thought she felt him shift underneath the hotel sheets, and continued.

"And you have every right to feel how you feel. I'm not going to scold you for it, or ridicule you for being human and having emotions. Even if I had been completely honest with you about my plans for tonight, you still have every right to feel hurt, even if you do not have a right to tell me what I can or cannot do with my personal life. There's nothing childish about feeling hurt, whether you're fifteen or fifty, and without excusing myself, I will admit to you that I chose not to divulge my plans for this past evening precisely because I did not want to hurt you. Especially over something that ended up being nothing, so no, you're not invited to any future weddings of mine, because there's not going to be any."

It seemed that only her last words caught his attention. The sheets shifted, and a subdued and chagrined teenager with blushing pink hair emerged by her side.

"I take it the date didn't go well?" It had been going swimmingly last he saw of it. Teddy wondered what the older wizard did to screw it all up.

"The date was fine," Hermione said, unwilling to reveal too much of her personal life to the young man, because it was absolutely not his business at all. "Sunil is a good person and a fine colleague. I just realized that it's not yet something that I'm ready for."

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't work out," Teddy mumbled, even though he neither looked nor sounded sorry at all. It was only now when he finally noticed her sheer proximity to him, sitting on his bed with her hair pulled up in intricate weaves and buns, wearing the prettiest and most revealing dress he'd ever seen on her, her leg, bare up to the middle of her thighs, seated inches by where his, well, parts that would be excited by her attire lay underneath his covers. "For the record, you look absolutely beautiful, and if he did anything to fuck it up, well it's his loss."

"Thanks Teddy." Was this why she had come here, for the ever consistent promise of a compliment to boost her ego? "I can't look that good though. This desert air, I swear it wreaks havoc on my hair."

"It's very nice. Did Luna help you out with it?"

"She did. Although she attributes it to, what did she call them? Right, the pattermillers, rather than her own very skilled fingers." At least they could both share a smile at their friend's endearing eccentricities.

"I still remember your wedding day," the teenager recalled unexpectedly. "That brilliant white dress you wore. I think that was the first time it all came together, when I realized that you were the most beautiful person I knew. I wasn't even jealous of Ron then, probably too young to feel that kind of stuff. I was just enchanted by you, and I remember I couldn't take my eyes off of you all night."

"We danced," Hermione reminisced alongside him. "Do you remember? You were the one who asked me to dance, though I think George was the one who put you up to it."

"Of course I do. I remember how patient you were with me, since I had absolutely no clue what I was doing."

"Me neither."

Teddy looked at her with a frown, of course she knew how to dance?

"I had no clue the feelings I'd begun to stir in my seven year old nephew, what I had inadvertently encouraged and would blow up in my face eight _very_ short years later."

She smiled to let him know that she wasn't being entirely serious, and marveled at how, the more time she'd spent with Teddy, the less she was apt to feel that knife stab into her heart and burst into tears the moment she thought about Ron. He must have sensed it too, or else Hermione thought he would not have mentioned the man so casually.

"I remember your smile that night," Teddy continued, his hair a deep wave of blue now, "how it lit up the entire room. I'd thought it was magic, and 'Nana had to assure me there was no magic, nothing more than just the magic of a happy bride."

"I was happy," Hermione stated. "I was very happy that night." She stared down at her sequined dress, which she'd bought in one of the luxury stores just this evening for the purposes of a date that had been foolish in hindsight. Hermione did not regret it, of course, because she would not know, until she'd at least tried; she only regretted that she'd had to lie to Teddy and hurt him in the process.

"You know, I think I've worn a dress like this all of three times in my life."

"Really?" Teddy said disbelievingly, as Hermione considered that maybe she had her share of fault for the failure of her marriage. If only she tried more, to keep up the romance, to demonstrate to Ron that she did not take him, or them, for granted.

"Tonight. My wedding day. And the Yule Ball my Fourth Year."

"Who was the lucky man during the Yule Ball," Teddy asked her, and she could honestly not tell this time whether he was jealous again, or merely curious.

Hermione shook her head dismissively. "No one that was important to me. Not in the long run, anyway. Which makes that night not so dissimilar to this one." Taking a deep breath, she decided against her better judgment. "I ended both those nights on the dance floor."

She rose from the bed, and savored Teddy's quizzical look towards her.

"Put some pants on, Teddy Lupin, and dance with me." Turning away before she could see his reaction, she waited until she heard the sound of his belt buckling. The young man was currently rifling through his suitcase.

"I might be a bit underdressed."

"The t-shirt's fine," Hermione replied, referring to the tacky _'Viva Las Vegas'_ shirt they'd all received in their individual gift bags. With a wave of the wand, music from his MagicPad filled the room, and it was Hermione who took the lead, taking Teddy's hands into hers and trying not to react when she felt his firm grip tighten around her waist.

Merlin, he was already so tall, and it was so easy for her to rest her weary head against his shoulder, giving Teddy the opportunity to lean his chin down against the top of her head, taking in every breath of her perfume and scent.

_She's so lucky, she's a star, but she cry-cry-cries in her lonely heart..._

"This is the saddest song I've ever heard." He tensed. "Is this Britney Spears?"

"Umm hmmm," Hermione mumbled into his shoulder, and they swayed slowly and gracefully through the room. "I left Hogwarts, magic, everything...for a year after the war. Spent it with my parents and the Muggle world. She happened to be the biggest star in their world at the time, and as a teenage girl not too much older than yourself, her music spoke to me. It's not something I'm proud of..."

"It's not something you should be ashamed of either," Teddy assured her. "I'm not making fun of you, I just didn't realize she had songs that were this sad. You should see some of the stuff I listen to when no one's around."

"Let me guess? Backstreet Boys?"

"Naw, that's old stuff," Teddy replied without thinking, and Hermione bit her tongue. "Stuff like Gaga, Rihanna, Kesha, Katy Perry. Usher's classic, and a lot of the DJ's like Avicii or Zedd...in fact a lot of them play the Muggle pool parties down in the lower city."

"I think I've heard of maybe _one_ of the people you mentioned," Hermione said embarrassingly, yet another stark reminder that they grew up in completely different worlds. Still growing, in Teddy's case.

"Oh, and Taylor Swift too."

"I like her," Hermione commented. "Rose loves her, and most of her songs are...mostly appropriate for girls her age."

"The last album is great," Teddy gushed, sounding surprisingly like a fangirl. "Want me to add some of my favorites to the playlist?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "but give it some space. There's some Fleetwood Mac songs coming up I'm really looking forward too."

As the gentle chords of the soft rock echoed into her ears, Hermione nuzzled her head instinctively against Teddy's neck, thinking that she could melt into him. It would be so easy, she realized, to just give in. There was no mystery to him, in a good way, she knew exactly who he was, what he wanted, as opposed to the game she would have to play with Sunil, or anyone she might go on a date with: wondering at their motives, did they just want a quick romp in bed, were they actually attracted to her, or her name? Her position, her power? No, it was all pure with Teddy. If only he were older, and Harry wasn't his godfather, and the entire Weasley family wouldn't flip their britches were she to ever announce that she was seeing Teddy Lupin, whatever his age was.

While Hermione was coming to realize that she'd lost track of time, each song seemed to last forever in Teddy's mind, which suited him fine, he wanted to savor every intimate moment with her tucked snugly in his arms. Every time the music ended, he felt panic grip his heart, wondering if she was about to finally pull away for the night, relaxing only when the next song started and Hermione continued to hug him tight, making no motion to leave him. As sorely tempted as he was to dare do more, move his hands further down towards her bum, or up to her bare back, or pull her closer to him so that her breasts pressed tighter against his chest, he controlled himself, knowing better than to mess with a good thing. A great thing, actually.

"I'd be happy if I died like this here, tonight."

Merlin, did he really say that to her? He'd thought he'd merely thunk it, but by the tilt of her head under his chin, he could tell that he'd just thought the words out loud.

"This is very nice," she merely replied. "Don't go dying on me yet, Teddy Lupin. I like you too much." With that, she finally pulled away from him, though not before lightly kissing his left cheek to lessen his agony. "Thank you, Teddy, for a splendid end to my date night."

Her smile was dazzling, even more so than what he remembered from that wedding of hers years ago, and he had no clue what to say to a woman after slow dancing with her for what felt like hours.

"I really do appreciate everything, Teddy. This is...a rough time of year for me, and in hindsight, I'm really glad Harry made me bring you along."

"Rough time," he asked, sitting back onto his bed and feeling more dazed than those nights when he'd consumed a large amount of wine or sangria. "What do you mean?" Obviously the work had been grating for her, but he sensed her words had nothing to do with their daytime obligations.

"Oh," she looked away, having already put her heels back on and reached the room door. "It's just..." Hermione bit her lips, wondering whether she should confide in the young man. Dancing with him had been perfectly appropriate, yet it wasn't, because she could not deny that it crossed a sort of line delineating her intention to dampen, not encourage, his feelings.

Without a further thought she decided. "There's a reason I have us working through tomorrow, and scheduling Monday and Tuesday as the off days instead." He cocked his head, awaiting her answer. "Monday's the day...it's Ron and I's anniversary. I had no idea of his affairs when I'd originally set the schedule, so I made the days available so I could Floo back, and we were going to up to the Lake District, we'd rented a cottage..."

"Oh Hermione." Without thinking, he approached her and wrapped her up in a fierce and protective hug, and Hermione could not help but embrace him back.

"I'm sorry," he said with regret after letting her go. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You didn't know." In fact, Hermione realized, she had been the one who'd hinted at it, practically baiting the young man into asking her why she was feeling exceptionally sad and needy this week. "I still haven't decided yet whether I want to just sit in my room all day, drink wine and watch sad Muggle movies. Or be drunk by 10 AM and passed out on the roulette table by noon."

She looked up, and saw that his brown eyes were boring through hers. The young wizard leaned down, and Hermione thought she might have actually been disappointed when, instead of taking her lips like he had earlier in the week, he merely kissed her chastely on her forehead as she'd done for him when trying to keep his affections at bay.

"Let me treat you."

"Treat me?"

"Let me plan something special for you. I promise, I'll make sure you have a good time, and not think about Ron all day."

She giggled, feeling too much like a girl much younger than her actual age.

"What could you possibly do?" She could imagine a number of things, some proper, others...she needed to better control her imagination.

"I...," Teddy stumbled, "I honestly don't know yet. But I've got a full day to think of something. I won't let you down, I promise."

"I believe you," Hermione submitted, before leaving his room for the night. She meant it.

* * *

Even they were all officially on the clock on Sunday, Hermione had intentionally set a light schedule knowing that most of her colleagues would fully take advantage of their stint in Las Vegas. In fact, it hadn't been her intention to visit the American resort city at all, only she had been outvoted, and an allowance for her colleagues to get drunk and engage in various vices was not the hill for her to die on. Thus she had all morning to go for a run, Apparating to a nearby desert trail for a brisk workout below the red rocks before the sun rose too high and melted her away. Then more time spent looking up rare tomes on D'Jinns, and most importantly, a Floo call with her children whom she hadn't spoken with in a week.

"You can't believe it mum," Rose squealed excitedly from their small cabin for the night, "there's so many dragons, all sorts of colors and shapes and sizes!"

"And don't worry," Charlie Weasley reassured her, "all our viewpoints are built and maintained at a safe distance from the active habitats, and we have wards and protection charms updated once a week to make sure no dragon can cross the barriers."

"Ze lakes here are amazing," Fleur continued, as Hermione rattled off in her head all the gifts she needed to bribe the woman with for taking her kids for such an extended period of time. "Hugo has really taken to them!"

"He's a brilliant swimmer," her husband added, "for a kid his age."

"I swam all the way from the dock to camp, mummy!"

"It's not zat far," Fleur assured her. "Don't worry, 'Ermione, I keep my eye on him all ze way."

"I trust you Fleur," Herimone said. As much as she did worry about her two wild children frolicking in the wild, she had to place her trust in her friends, and take care for never sounding ungrateful for everything they were doing for her.

"Uncle Teddy!" Both kids perked up at the sight of the young man entering her room.

"Hey Rose, Hugo." He bent down towards the Floo next to her to conversate with them, and she almost recoiled at first at his physical proximity in front of everyone, until she remembered that there was nothing in his behavior that suggested anything more than a completely platonic relationship between nephew and aunt, and only a show of discomfort on her part would give their companions on the other side of the Floo any reason to believe any differently.

"I wish you came with us, Uncle Teddy," Rose perked up at the sight of her favorite 'uncle'. "Working with mummy must be so _boring_ , I bet Uncle Charlie would let _you_ ride the dragons. The baby ones are so cute when they hatch, it's like they're little kittens. Except they're not furry at all, and they don't purr..."

"Teddy! Teddy! Mommy promised she'd get me a pwesent from every place she visits!"

"Oh," Teddy laughed good naturedly, "so that's the reason your mommy's suitcases get heavier every single day. I bet your room won't be big enough for all the souvenirs she's bringing back you!"

"Hermione," Fleur expressed to her with faux disapproval. "Don't tell you me you've reduced zat bright and intelligent young man to acting as your person chauffeur!"

"Of course not," Hermione replied indignantly. "For the record, the only menial labor I have him doing is to get me coffee."

On cue, Teddy handed her her concoction for the morning, one of the iced variety that the Americans liked to drink, which Hermione conceded wasn't the worst idea in a dry desert city like Las Vegas.

"Because she doesn't trust a Hufflepuff with anything more complicated."

"Teddy, stop," she huffed, as they all laughed at her expense. "For the record, I trust Teddy with many important things."

"Teddy," Bill regarded them humorously, "blink twice if you're under an Imperious right now, thrice if she's threatened you with a Cruciatus."

"What's a Crusheetis, Uncle Bill," Rose asked with innocent eyes.

"Bill, stop teaching my kids the Unforgivables."

"We're in Romania, love," her former brother-in-law replied her, "it's Durmstrang territory. When in Rome..."

Hermione sighed. "Fleur, if I didn't know better I'd say your husband requires more babysitting than my kids."

The French part-Veela witch rolled her eyes. "Don't I know it."

They were running out of time on both ends, the kids for an early bedtime the night before embarking on yet another long backpacking trip through the mountains, and Hermione saw that she had only a few minutes left before their only obligation of the day. Saying goodbye to her kids, and thanking Fleur and Bill profusely once again for all their help, she stood up feeling as light and cheerful as she had in a long time.

"You miss them, don't you," Teddy sympathized from beside her.

"So much. This is the longest I've ever been apart from them...but they're having the time of their lives, so I'm happy for them."

"You think Sunil will be a good stepfather to them?"

At first she glared at him. Even though she was quite aware of how much Teddy enjoyed teasing her as his way of flirting, she was surprised that he do so at his own expense. Then she slapped him playfully on his chest. On this off day, he was wearing one of the new tight one layer shirts apparently in vogue with the youth at the moment, and she could not help but notice how firm he felt under her touch, and did not fail to notice just how her fingers appeared to linger one extra half second on his body. Neither did he, for the matter.

"Spousal abuse, huh? Mr. Sharma's in for a treat as the future Mr. Hermione Granger."

"Watch it," she warned him, picking up her wand along with her portfolios. "I will hex you."

Apparently her threat did not scare him. Hermione realized that the supposedly naïve Hufflepuff knew exactly what he was doing, citing his potential love rival in an irreverent manner to demonstrate that he was no longer jealous of him, or saw him as a threat, while bringing up the prospect that any man Hermione might bring into her life may or may not enjoy the rapport he already had with her children.

So either he was a secret Slytherin, or she was reading way too much into what was entirely an innocuous remark.

"That look in your eye tells me you want to do something different."

Damn it, they were wading into very dangerous territory. And it was entirely her fault for encouraging him every step of the way. After all, she'd not been under any spell last night, when they'd danced for hours, and she'd used the young man to satisfy whatever personal inadequacies she'd been feeling at the time, so if he was becoming more and more forward towards her she had no one to blame but herself.

"Come on, we're going to be late." Even so, she let him walk ahead of her, so she could admire his tight form from behind. Hopefully he wasn't subtle enough to pick up on that.

* * *

By the time the conference ended at noon, most of the attendants were already checked out mentally, ready to return to their rooms post-haste for a nap, head right down to the casino floors, or both in that order. Draco had returned to England the previous night, so as fate would have it, her expert scheduling left her with nearly three full days with her a very young man whom, if she were honest with herself, she shouldn't be trusted to be in the same room with.

"What do you want to do then," Hermione asked as they arrived back to their rooms.

"It's your call," Teddy replied with that infuriating grin of his. "I've already planned out our day together tomorrow, so the onus is on you today."

"And you've got everything completely planned and ready," she asked incredulously, crossing her arms in a way that she thought was incredibly unattractive, which Teddy actually found incredibly attractive.

"In theory, yes. But I still have a few Muggle phone calls to make."

"Hmmm." If she were honest with herself, Hermione was actually looking forward to what the young man had under his sleeve. Hopefully it wasn't going to be too extravagant or expensive; Andromeda's estate had left him a decent inheritance, but the last thing she wanted was to leech off the boy's Galleons, and swore that she would absolutely reimburse him for anything more than just the most modest expenses.

For her part, she kept their itinerary light. First they went to the pool, where Teddy noticed that her choice of swimwear this time around was a bit more revealing than her attire in Morocco. His sunglasses allowed him to freely enjoy his view, the way her body flowed out of her red bikini, still a one piece, but this time with an open back and more open with her cleavage. Of course, he wasn't aware that his crush was doing the same thing to him beneath her designer shades, finding it harder than usual to focus on her book, this one a Muggle history of the American West.

When the sun began dimming, they descended down to the Muggle level of the city, and wandered the various themed casino resorts: the Italian themed one, the other Italian/Ancient Roman themed one, the ones whose themes seemed limited only to gaudy excess, and a few based off the cities they'd just come from, Paris and Manhattan.

"I think I like the Muggle resorts better," Teddy commented, sipping on a novelty strawberry drink Hermione had purchased for him. "The variety of people you see is much more interesting."

"Have you been to London that much at all?"

Teddy shook his head. "'Nana wasn't fond of big cities."

"I'll have to take you out to the city more for people watching, once we get back," she said plainly, as if they could just carry on with whatever their relationship currently was, once they both returned to home and reality. After stopping by a food court for a quick meal, Hermione led Teddy to the theater lobby, where she had reserved tickets to the Beatles Cirque du Soleil show.

"I hope this wasn't what you had planned for me tomorrow," Hermione said with a smirk. A devilish part of her actually hoped that she had accidentally messed up all his grand designs for her, just so she could see him flustered, and observe just how creative and adaptable he could be in the last minute. The young man was however appeared unperturbed.

"We'll find out, won't we. And if is, you'll just have to watch whatever this thing is two nights in a row."

This kind of show was indeed the last thing Teddy had in mind for Hermione, although it proved an unexpected delight, both the music and the theatrics, as well as the pleasure of Hermione unreservedly resting her head against him through the entire show. As entertaining as the performances were, he could not help but find his attention drawn half the time to watching his date (?) for the night lost in rapt attention, enjoying the show, none of the worries of work or divorce troubling her unceasing mind.

She continued to huddle and lean close to him late in the night, when they wandered the incredibly raucous boulevard of Old Las Vegas. As she happily took his arm and depended on his shoulders as her headrest, Hermione reasoned that this was no worse than what they had done already.

"The people here seem different," Teddy remarked, as they ordered some rather expensive looking fancy beer at a street stand. "Like they're a lower class of American."

"I believe the Muggle word for it is Redneck," Hermione recalled.

"Like the Cowboy?"

Hermione nodded. "But the Cowboy's rather rich, isn't it? I don't think it's as much of a class thing, their society doesn't revolve too much around that...it's more...culture, I guess. If it weren't for the fact that they speak the same language, one might easily think that New York City and California...let's say, Texas, are altogether different countries."

"Like Cornwall and Brighton?"

"Something like that. Much more so though."

Then he nearly spit out his beer after taking his first sip. "Fuck, that's bitter."

"It's an IPA," Hermione smiled, sipping her drink slowly. "They call it craft beer, which just means they make it extra bitter, and charge you twice as much for it."

She was used to the taste by now, Harry was something of a craft aficionado, as was Seamus and Neville and gosh, maybe half their year from Hogwarts, it seemed. Talk about class privileges.

They took care to walk separately by the time they returned to the magical level of the city, no longer safely hidden in Muggle confines, and Hermione found herself missing his touch to a surprising degree. He was young, but still undoubtedly a man, sort of, and she was not so far gone from her rawest instincts that she could not enjoy a pleasant day in the arms of a man who adored her, who genuinely cared for her, whom she clearly felt something for also. Recalling their early days of dating, Hermione could not help but shudder, as muscle memories in her mind came to her of how such wonderfully romantic days with a man she cared for inevitably ended.

"Would you like to come in with me?" She struggled to think of a legitimate reason to invite the teenager into her room well after midnight in Vegas. "For a nightcap. Of water, I've fed you too much to drink already tonight. Harry would want to make sure I keep you hydrated."

When she embraced and kissed him the moment they had their privacy, Hermione blamed it on the drinks, and the fact that all day and all night she'd been wishing that he could be a few years older, or that she could just _forget away_ his age. She blamed it on the fact that this was already her anniversary, especially once she accounted for the time difference, and the universe _owed_ her something, for everything it had taken away from her.

It somehow felt less taboo and more natural, more perfect, more right, each time they enjoyed an intimate moment together, whether kissing, or dancing the night away, and Hermione did not wince or jump when his hands ventured into more perilous territory, grabbing at her bum, or up her waist so that four fingers gripped her upper back, and one thumb lay tucked neatly under her left breast. She returned the favor, grabbing his behind, squeezing one cheek...

With a desperate gasp, Hermione pulled away before it was too late, ignoring his disappointed dark eyes.

"We can't," she strained to say. "I shouldn't have done that." It sounded like she was hearing someone else speak, some clichéd actress inside a romantic comedy, turning away a love interest purely for the sake of extending the plot. _Or tragedy, there's no way this ends well._

_But I don't care._

"If we keep going like this, I don't think I'd be able to stop myself much longer."

The way they gazed into each other now, it felt like they both understood the other to the deepest reaches of their souls. Which meant that he knew that what she had just said to him amounted to nothing less than an open invitation to take her, and definitively cross that turgid line of no return.

To her aching disappointment, he took her words at their literal meaning instead. The British Undersecretary felt every inch of her would be paramour's arms slip away from her own, slithering away like temptation itself out her door. She stood there and watched him leave, shocked, having felt his passion, the literal embodiment of his feelings for her, pressed against her abdomen just seconds before.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione," he said, leaving her without even a goodnight kiss.


	10. Canada

It hadn't escaped the British Undersecretary for Foreign Magical Affairs that she might be on the receiving end of an extravagant awakening on the special day planned for her by her best friend's godson. Instead, Hermione Granger woke by herself with a yawn, after an exceedingly frustrating night of restless sleep, to find that it was already midmorning, and felt disappointed that she'd been all left alone on her sad farce of a wedding anniversary. As she brushed her teeth and got herself dressed, she heard a light knock on her door and waved it open with her wand from the washroom.

"You'll need to tell me what kind of attire I need to wear today," she said casually to Teddy as he handed her a large plastic cup filled with coffee and ice. As of now he could see that she was clad only in a light blue nightgown, and if it was a bit revealing so early in the morning, then she reveled in its forbidden nature.

"Dress for tea," he said casually, as he tossed her an unused _'Viva Las Vegas'_ shirt from her heretofore untouched gift bag. "Keep that around just in case, and wear jeans."

"Why don't you pick out a pair for me," Hermione remarked flirtatiously to the young man from the bathroom, examining the mess of her hair in the mirror. If she was overtly coming on to him, then she didn't care, because this was her day to indulge, and act selfishly for once. Teddy obediently ruffled through her luggage, spending less time than she would have expected browsing through a collection which included her many of her more intimate garments.

"Want me to stick around to make sure they fit," he dared her.

"Shoo, prat." Not yet, not so early, not while she was sober, not before she'd done her hair and makeup and looked halfway proper.

"Don't bother getting too ready," Teddy remarked on his way out the door, as if reading her mind. "It's not going to be a ballroom dancing sort of day, not that I didn't enjoy the other night."

Half an hour later she was ready. Calling Teddy back into her room, she looked expectantly at him, half expecting and half wishing that he'd cut through the pretense and throw her down onto her bed right here and right now, screw whatever reservations he'd already made for the day. His young eyes certainly possessed that predatory look when he took her into his arms and kissed her with the familiarity of an established couple, her heart skipping a beat as she marveled how _used_ she was by now to was the touch of his body and his lips. There was something so casual about the way they kissed that seemed to brush away the last dustings of whatever remained in the platonic phase of their relationship. Again, he pulled away too quickly for her tastes, and looked at her expectantly.

"You have the Floo powder?"

She tossed in the ingredients, and placing his hands over her ears (Merlin, even that innocuous action felt so intimate), Teddy uttered the words to their destination for the day. Hermione emerged in a grand lobby, looked up and around at the rustic log ceilings and hunting plagues adorning the walls, and then at the massive open windows which broadcasted to her giant, turquoise colored jagged mountains overlooking as crystal blue a lake she had ever seen.

"Toto, we're not in Vegas anymore."

"Toto?"

"Before your time," she replied, oddly no longer no longer feeling so old when voicing ancient references to her younger companion. "Teddy this is fantastic. Where are we?"

"The Prince of Wales Hotel," he answered with glib satisfaction, "in the Canadian Rockies. And we're just in time for brunch."

As they cut their teeth on the delectable sandwiches and plethora of colorful macarons and other pastries, Hermione wondered how Teddy had been able to obtain a front seat table astride some of the most spectacular scenery her eyes had ever witnessed. It was a Monday, she reasoned, and perhaps still early in the American tourist season, but either way she was not in any place to complain.

"I have to say," Hermione admitted, "this was not what I'd been expecting at all. You really outdid yourself Teddy."

"'Nana loved watching Muggle nature documentaries," he explained, ecstatic and doing his best to hide his excitement once it became clear that Hermione approved of his efforts. "I just closed my eyes and thought of the most beautiful places I could remember from them...and voila."

As she reached for the last slice of sandwich, he caught her fingers and, slyly running his eyes across the dining room to make sure no one was watching, stole her hand and brought it up to his mouth, taking just the tips of her two fingers between his tongue and upper lip. Hermione giggled, both glad and ruing how the young man could make her feel so much younger than her advanced years.

"What's next," she asked intriguingly. "Don't tell me you booked one of the rooms here." That would be too extravagant, especially for the budget she had in mind, though Hermione supposed she would wait at least a full day to complain.

"I wouldn't presume," he responded to the contrary, "to dictate our lodgings for the night actually." His soft eyes turned towards the extravagant vistas just beyond them past the plate glass windows. "There's a nice hike up to a lake from here I thought we could do..."

"Umm hmmm," Hermione voiced as she chewed her turkey sandwich. As wonderful as a hike sounded, she felt too full for such a strenuous outing just now. Not with one of the magical advertisements catching her eye while they had been waiting for their table. "I hope you aren't too wedded to your plans, Teddy."

"It's your day, my lady," he bowed deferentially to her from his seat across the table. "Whatever my lady decides, I shall oblige...so long as we still make our dinner reservation."

"I think we can manage it. The broom rental office they have here, I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea; we can see all the Rockies, not just one lake."

Teddy frowned. "I thought you didn't like flying."

"It's not my favorite thing to do," she admitted. "But we're not talking Quidditch or death defying wars, just a calm and romantic flyover over the Canadian Rockies that small children can even manage."

Did she just say the word romantic out loud? Did Teddy notice it? Were neither of them surprised anymore by how open and unabashedly forward they were with each other at this point? Because the prospect of romance had been intrinsic to Teddy's offer to spend her anniversary with her, and Hermione's unhesitating acceptance of it meant an unquestioning acknowledgement of the same.

"But the hike's supposed to be really pretty." He was pouting a little, apparently put off by her rejection of his idea, and when he did so, it made him look younger than his age ( _correction, Hermione, it makes him look exactly his age_ ), which made her feel all the more uncomfortable for allowing whatever it was between them to continue simmering. Given the choice, Hermione chose to ignore it and press forward.

"They have a luxury double broom option, you know," she said with a wink. "Fits two on one, looked very cozy."

To be honest Hermione really did not want to go trudging on her feet in the mountains today. Not that she disliked hiking as a generality, but apparently Teddy Lupin thought that the pair of rather tight jeans he'd picked out for her were more than adequate for the strenuous activity. Nor would her flimsy sneakers do, for the matter.

A devious grin grew on the boy's face. "Well, why didn't you say that sooner?"

The young man was duly eager for their next activity by the time they received their rental broom from an exceedingly polite Canadian elf. "Are you comfortable enough to take the lead," Hermione teased.

"You bet," Teddy agreed eagerly, climbing on the double wide broomstick first, followed by Hermione, who clung on tightly behind him. Hoping that the incredible sensation of her breasts pressed upon his back the next few hours would not prove too fatal a distraction, Teddy maneuvered the broom up into the air and followed the transparent flight lines that marked the suggested course of their trip.

First they swung through the American portion of the park, crossing over the border and back as they swerved and weaved through impossibly jagged mountains and unworldly glacial tarns, Teddy swooping low on purpose so that their feet practically touched the freezing waters. Then, back north as they followed the frozen and serrated spine of the North American continent, where the snow and glaciers thickened, the roads and tourists lessened below, and wilderness took over.

"Look, a grizzly," Hermione pointed out, savoring both the grandiose views and the sensation of having a constant excuse to grope at her young companion's firm body. Pretty soon her wildlife observations became redundant, and they lost track of all the bears and wolves and moose and the occasional Canadian Greyback dragon they saw curled up in a deep ravine or crevice. Eventually they felt the presence of more Muggles, indicating that they'd arrived at the world famous Banff park.

"Look at all those suckers waiting in line," Teddy remarked, as he flew their shared broom in circles around the world famous Lake Louise and practically in the face of the hundreds of unsuspecting Muggle tourists lined up to take photos of themselves in front of the renowned landmark.

"You mean all the suckers who had to _hike_ to see the lake," Hermione japed back at him.

"Ugh," she heard him moan in front of her. "Remind me to never get into an argument with you Hermione."

"Au contraire, please do so more, I enjoy winning arguments." To assuage his fragile male ego, she nuzzled her nose at the back of his neck, kissing it and then licked playfully at his earlobe. He shuddered in response, almost losing control of the broom and plummeting them into a group of Muggle tourists. "Careful, you almost killed us there!"

"Are you saying that loving me is deadly, Granger?"

"In more than one way," she grumbled, not failing to notice the casual way he dropped that 'L' word in front of her. "Kill us both, and I won't be able to devour you tonight. What a shame that will be."

The tempting thought was enough inducement for Teddy to fly much more conservatively through the rest of the afternoon. Past yet another wave of incredibly crooked mountains, he brought them down into the small tourist village of Jasper. Dropping their broom off at the edge of town, Hermione accompanied her date through the western themed downtown, noting the many buildings which seemed to sport a Swiss chalet style architecture in the rough mimicry that North Americans apparently loved to build in reference to the Old World.

"Elevation, by Jacques," the young man announced proudly as he led her to one of the fancier, new age buildings on the edge of downtown. "The highest rated restaurant in all the Canadian Rockies.

"Oh Teddy, this is a very upscale establishment." Hermione ran her hands through her hair nervously, the wind from all the flying had undone all her hard work from the morning, reducing her mane to the bushy, uncontrollable tangles of which she'd been known for back in her early years at Hogwarts. She whispered to him quietly as the waiter led them to their table. "I think we're underdressed for a place like this." Dead eyes from mounted bear heads and elk and deer and foxes stared down disquietingly at them.

"The reservation's good," Teddy replied uncaringly. "So's our money, so if they don't like us, they can shove it."

Indeed, they attracted their share of glances askew from the highbrow diners, and Hermione wasn't sure whether it was due to their attire or mismatched pairing. They had been careful to walk separately in town, the sober tourist village a far cry from the drunken and anonymous anarchy of Las Vegas even on a Sunday night. Ignoring the looks, Hermione reviewed the menu, only to make a face she saw matching Teddy's when she glanced across their table.

"Elk, bison, raw this, raw that," he said skeptically.

"I'm so tired of steak," Hermione added, fingering one of the few menu items which looked acceptable to her. "Everything on here just looks so...so heavy. I suppose I could just get the vegan stir fry."

"Hmm. You and me both."

As they both continued to deliberate unenthusiastically through the menu, Hermione awaited impatiently the waiter to return with at least some water, considering how parched she was after such a long time in the sky. It almost felt like they were being deliberately snubbed, likely due to the fact that they were the least formally dressed diners in the restaurants. The youngest too, most of their fellow patrons looked to be the retired type, or the rich Muggle magnate not dissimilar to the Cowboy, accompanied by a society wife resembling the likes of Teddy's great-aunt Narcissa.

"Want to play hookey," Hermione said with a devious smile when the waiter walked by their table for the fourth time unattended.

"Hookey?"

"That brewery two blocks away looks a lot more lively." One last look at their server, who was seemed glued to his Muggle phone at the moment. "I doubt they'll notice if we skip off."

She found herself giggling like a schoolgirl by the time she and Teddy joyfully snuck out the front door, and resisted the urge make out with him on the open street on the short walk to the brewery. Teddy continued to wince at the bitter IPA he insisted on ordering for the sake of manliness, while Hermione enjoyed the lighter wheat beer as they shared a burger and entrée salad together. The mood in the restaurant was convivial, with rowdy laughter bursting from the bar and every table surrounding them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a young bearded man sporting a tie-dyed shirt and a mop of curly red hair announced into an a microphone, causing both Hermione and Teddy to jump while their fingers played with each other as they pretended to snag at the last French fry. "Put on your thinking caps everyone, are you ready for some Monday Night Trivia?!"

"Trivia!" Teddy's eyes perked up. "This seems like your thing, Hermione."

She frowned skeptically, motioning towards their server for the check. "I'm not that much on top of Muggle subjects, so I'll probably just take it way too seriously, only to finish close to last place." Deliberately she tapped the toe of her shoes against the back of his calf. "I suspect I'll be in a pretty rotten mood by the time we're done. That'll be a waste of a night, wouldn't it? Considering I was hoping to end it in a very different sort of mood."

Another toe tap to recapture his attention.

"Somewhere where we can have more privacy?"

"That's the kind of thinking that'll get you named Head Boy," she whispered to him, her voice raw and savage. It seemed inevitable, and Hermione found herself strangely successful at dampening down whatever doubts she _ought_ to harbor towards the inevitable progression and culmination of their planned day together. It was hard for them to avoid walking hand in hand out of the town back to where they'd left their broom. As he could obviously pass for someone of age combined with his fake passport and drinks in hand, Muggle attentions were the least of their worries. Chances are they were safe, but Hermione still chose caution, just in case Rita Skeeter coincidentally decided to pick the far out Canadian Rockies for a rare sabbatical from her sordid muckraking.

This time it was Hermione who took control of the luxury broom, Teddy all too happy to hop on and cling to her from behind her. As she pivoted them through an orange sky with no particular destination in sight, Hermione noticed that her young companion was becoming more and more liberal with the way he held her, running and rubbing his solid fingers up and down her stomach and towards an abdomen she worried was much too wide and bloated to excite a young man his age, yet he appeared plenty excited anyway.

Spotting a hidden lake in an abandoned basin tucked away high in a mountain valley, Hermione pivoted them over to a grassy meadow overlooking the glacial tarn. Their rental came with a thick blanket meant for picnics in the wild, Hermione figured, and she laid it down so they could lie comfortably to watch the sun set over the nearby ridges. The sound of falling waters adorned their ears from where the frozen glacier trickled down ledge by ledge, cascade by cascade, into the frigid waters before them.

"You placed a very nice place for us to snog," Teddy said giddily, plopping down onto the blanket next to her. Though his words were bold, there was an anxiousness in his eyes that belied his youth.

"Is that what you think we're doing?" _This is wrong, Hermione. It's not too late to put an end to it. It'll be painful for him. For you too. But it's not too late._

"I couldn't think of any better place."

"Shh. Let's just watch the sun set together."

Slowly she curled herself atop his body and nestled her frame comfortably into his arms. The sunset was beautiful, yet Hermione found her eyes drifting closed, not because she was feeling sleepy but, one arm wrapped around the young man, she wanted to lose herself in his grasp, absorbing every sensation of being held by a man who loved her. Her eyes open, she would continue to think. Eyes shut, she could forget everything except how it felt to be a woman being held by her man.

 _He loves me._ There was no lie in those words. Why her, Hermione kept wondering. Was it some fetish she'd inadvertently triggered when George Weasley pushed the adorable young boy to ask a blushing bride for a dance? Was it because he was so young, and she the only real woman whom he had in his life that wasn't a motherly figure like Ginny? Did much of it have to do with his own lack of a mother, and so she'd transformed into a mother-to-lover archetype to him by proxy?

Feeling the beat of his heart under her left ear within her self-imposed darkness, she wondered at the choices which still lay before her this night.

 _This heart is mine. It beats for me only, no one else, nothing else._ The condition wouldn't last. Sooner and later the young man would grow up. His horizons would expand, the bodies and personalities of his schoolmates at Hogwarts would mature. If he still harbored a preference for older women, sooner or later he'd bump into one in life that was perhaps only five or so years older than him, or even ten, rather than eighteen (nineteen once the rounding was accounted for). The infatuation would fade, and regardless of what happened this night, they'd regard each other at family reunions with the awkward recollections of what did, or didn't, happen between them the summer after his Fourth Year. That was the _best_ case scenario, at least.

Yet here and now, he was absolute hers to have. To possess. To use. As a balm for her soul, her needs, as a proxy for the lack of any other men or romantic interests in her life at the moment. If she took him, she would do so knowing that she would lose him one day, sooner or later. Her heart would break once again, and though she was prepared to guard herself were she to cross this uncrossable line, the pain would still hurt. Maybe less than Ron, but pain lay ahead for her guaranteed, the only question being when and how.

_Listen to yourself, Hermione. Here you are, about to ruin the life of a talented and promising young man, your charge no less, and you're prattling about in your head about how this might hurt you. What a total selfish, callous bitch you are!_

At some point or another before the sun went down, they started kissing. Hermione wasn't sure who initiated it, nor did she care.

"So how did I do," Teddy asked her, briefly interrupting their passion. "Did I give you a good day, Hermione?"

"I never want this day to end," she replied him sincerely. "I never would have believed it, if you told me that twenty four hours ago."

When she settled down on him again, straddling his body, invading his lips, Teddy felt warm relief flow through his lungs. This was all he'd wanted, to do something special for her. To make her feel special, to help ease her sadness. It had been the reason he'd stepped back the previous night, even though he'd wanted to take her and ravish her body all night, and he could have, his heart had told him. But the fulfillment of his wishes last night might have ruined this day, might have prevented Hermione from coming along with him; had things gone wrong, she might have sulked sadly in her room all day through both grief and shame, so Teddy wanted to do this for her, even at the cost of denying himself when he'd been so close. Besides, if things went well, perhaps all roads may yet lead to the same endgame.

Somehow their positions flipped, she lay on her back, and his lanky frame sank into her body, their lips never losing contact with each other. "I love you, Hermione. I wanted you to have a special day today. I'm glad you did."

"I know you love me now," she said, unable to look away from his eyes as the last hints of light faded from the midsummer sky. "You won't feel this way forever. You'll grow up one day." Godric, it still made a substantial part of her brain sick saying those last words.

"I'll always love you, Hermione. I know that. I'll never stop..."

"Shh," she shushed him again, placing one finger over his trembling lips. "I'll _always_ love you, Teddy Lupin. No matter what happens tonight. Or doesn't happen. I've always loved you, not romantically, not like this...but always as little Teddy Lupin, sweet little Teddy."

Was she trying to talk herself out of this tryst, force herself to remember him as a child, remind herself how unspeakably wrong her current actions were?

"Well, you're not longer so little, are you? I love you, Teddy. I don't know exactly _how_ I love you right now. I don't know if it's romantically, I don't know if I love you the way you love me. I do know that I _want_ you right now, so badly, in so many ways. But passion is fleeting. Love isn't, not this kind of love. So know, Teddy, that I'll always love you. Not for your body, not for your gorgeous eyes, not for your wonderful lips...but because you're you, Teddy. I'll always love you for you."

She expected him to protest in one form or another. But he didn't. _Because he's mature enough to understand_ , she wishfully thought. But nevertheless he seemed appreciative of her speech, which had apparently done nothing to subdue his passion. He leaned down to kiss her again, pressing his body into hers as firmly as he'd ever dared, and they remained like that until it was well after dark, making love with their clothes on.

"Is this going to happen?" She found that she was asking herself, more than anything else.

"I'm ready, if you are," he said, sweat upon his brow, one hand reached under her blouse, fingers prying gently at her bra.

It wasn't too late to stop this, a small voice screamed in the depths of her mind. The damage was done, but not irreparably so. Her career would be already be over if any of this got out, whether or not they committed that one final act, and the logical part of her mind told her that she deserved unreservedly whatever repercussions may come her way for her _acted upon_ desires.

Yet under his withering gaze, Hermione felt her willpower melting. Because it felt so good, to be loved and treasured and worshipped like this, even if she understood that his love was just an illusion, a figment of his youth that would waste away with every coming day, week, year. Because in this moment it was real, and it meant all the world for both of them.

 _When will you ever feel like this again,_ Hermione questioned herself. _When will you feel ever again feel such passion, such love offered you so freely without requisites, without conditions. This may be your only chance, Hermione Granger, to feel the kind of passion that only exists in trashy Muggle romance novels and wholly unrealistic movies. If it's your luck that it's coming from someone so ripe, then it's still your decision to look a gift horse in the mouth, and reject it or not...knowing that something like this may never come your way again. Not from Teddy. Not from anyone._

"Why me," she asked him out loud. _What did I do to deserve this blessing, this curse?_

"Because there's no one else like you," he answered, as if she were daft, and it was the simplest answer in the universe. Softly, she pushed him upwards and away from her body.

"We should find a place to spend the night," Hermione said cryptically, not wanting to disappoint him, or herself, just yet. They packed up the blanket and again Hermione took control of the broom, distracted and barely able to navigate it to a small speck of lights in the dark mountain wilderness. There were several neon signs indicating Muggle facilities for lodging, but to their dismay all of them but one read the words _'No Vacancy'_ , though not always with all the letters properly lit.

Their hands parted belatedly after already entering modest motel lobby, where an old, weathered lady eyed their approach warily.

"Please tell me you have something available," Hermione said to her politely. "Everything else in town looks to be sold out." It wasn't that she was too tired to keep flying to the next town, but being so closed to the promised land, she could control herself no longer. Hermione had a feeling that Teddy felt the same way.

"Annual Angler's week in town," the woman replied her dryly. "Only thing I still have left is the Honeymoon suite, cost you a pretty penny though."

It didn't matter, Muggle moneys were immaterial to them. "I'll take it."

"Thought you might," the old lady said with one raised eyebrow. "Bed's a king. Take care not to wear it out."

The old woman clearly wasn't daft, and Hermione wondered at the irony of their illicit affair coming to an end once the sole Muggle sheriff of this tiny one-horse town handcuffed her off to a jail in one of the more forgotten corners of the world.

"Oh, Teddy's my nephew," she said unconvincing. "We're going to a family reunion together, I'm escorting him...I'm responsible for him. Pain in the ass, I told his father. You can have the bed, Teddy. I'll sleep on the floor. Or a couch if there's one."

The old lady chuckled as she ran through her Muggle payment card. "Have one daughter of my own. Pretty little thing, prettiest belle in town. Girl ran off and eloped with our town pastor before she'd even finished High School. They send me Christmas cards once a year, but the scoundrel still hasn't the courage to come back and look me in the eye yet. He went to elementary school with me, by gosh. Heard they run a hunting lodge now, up in the Yukon." Hermione swore that the woman then winked at her when she handed her the keys to their room. "You have a good night there now ma'am, young man."

Slowly they both approached the doors to their rustic suite, both knowing what it meant once they stepped inside together. Surprisingly, they did not leap on top of each other the first moment upon crossing the threshold. Hermione moved first, lifting his shirt over his head, and then softly kissed at the bare skin underneath, teasing at his small nipples with her tongue before her lips locked against his chest, making intimate contact with the heart that beat for her and her alone. Then she undid his belt and tugged down his pants with ease, playfully grabbing at the manhood she was already intimately familiar with from that embarrassing night in New York City.

He groaned, and she withdrew, but not before planting a teasing kiss on his lips. The brunette witch walked over to the massive bed, turned to face her expectant lover, and began to disrobe.

"I'm not a schoolgirl anymore, Teddy, not a newlywed bride. My body...what you're going to see...it might not be what you're expecting, when you think about me...and the clothes I wear, they do a good job of hiding..."

"You're perfect, Hermione, no matter how you look." His response was predictable, yet it still did so much to reassure her.

Rather than leap blindly into the throes of passion, she wanted him to see her first, to offer her approval, to see with clear eyes the woman he was jumping into a bed with for the first time. Taking a deep breath, she took off her shirt, revealing a waistline that she hadn't been proud of for about a decade, and scolded herself for not taking off her jeans first, noticing how her pants pushed up at her stomach to really accentuate her excess flab. Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra, then her jeans, all the while afraid to meet his eyes. Then finally her last undergarment, but she froze.

"I...it's been awhile, Teddy. I haven't exactly prepared myself for this...most women maintain themselves...down here, if they're expecting to be with a man. But I hadn't been expecting...," she trailed off, as if she'd had any doubts as to what was going to happen well before embarking with him this morning.

Sensing her nervousness, he approached her, his excitement still obvious underneath his briefs despite the very unsexy reveal of her body. Taking one breast greedily into his hands, running his other hand through the mess of her hair and down her back, he kissed her with the same passion as he had before.

"You'll always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me, Hermione. I promise you." Both his hands moved down until they reached the hem of her frilly pink underwear, peeling it back and letting it fall down her legs so that she was the first to stand fully naked before the other. Hermione gasped when his hand reached against her, prying fingers searching for her opening.

"No wonder Harry always said you were so bushy haired back in school," he said with a mocking smile, then deepened his kiss before she could protest out of sheer embarrassment at her lack of self care. His fingers persisted, finding their way inside her, making her forget all her doubts, her fears, her insecurities. With a feral grunt, he pushed her gently onto the bed, and his lips were everywhere, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her arms, lapping greedily at one breast, then the other, nudged in between and pecking at the skin above her heart as she had done to him moments before, then down her body, paying special care to a small scar by her right hip.

"You got this scar saving the world," he said before she could protest. "You should be proud of it." Both his hands ran up and down her legs, two thumbs wading treacherously across her inner thighs, a tantalizing glimpse of what was to come. Taking a pause in his efforts, he took off his briefs and socks, revealing a length that matched what Hermione remembered from the speakeasy: not massive by any means, but large enough to satisfy her for sure. His attentions returned to her upper body, and to her discomfort, her left arm, where her most obvious scar from Malfoy Manor lay naked and exposed for his virgin eyes.

"You hide this a lot," he said, gently caressing her souvenir from Bellatrix's violation of her body.

"I'm not ashamed of it," she maintained, recalling the simple concealing spells she cast most times when she wore a short sleeved top or dress. "I just don't want it to be a distraction, or the subject of conversation. At work, or worse, in a Muggle restaurant."

"It's your body," he said, kissing the scarred slur gently. "And you have a wonderful body, no matter what you choose to do with it."

He kissed the scar again, but this time with one finger finding its way inside her, and immediately she forgot all about that awful insane woman and the war and everything in existence except for his fingers and his tongue. Inevitably he made his way lower and lower along her body, until his mouth found its way to where his fingers had been. Eagerly he lapped at her, penetrating her softly with his tongue, before remembering the Muggle internet videos he watched on occasion, and shifted his lips upwards to lick at her clit while two fingers resumed their motions inside her folds.

"Oh Teddy, this is amazing," Hermione moaned, as his one free hand moved up to palm her breast. She'd expected him to be enthusiastic, but this good? Hermione found herself sorely tempted to perform a Legilimens on him after this was all over to see just how much experience the young man had had before her.

Sensing the intensifying impact of his actions, Teddy continued with increasing vigor, practically burying his face between her legs as stray strands from her unkempt mane tickled at his nose. She was definitely hairier than most of the women Teddy had seen in those Muggle videos. It had taken him by surprise, but he found that he liked it, it make her more unique, more _Hermione_ , compared the average porn actress he occasionally wanked it to.

"Oh God." Her fingers were clutched possessively at his beet red hair, and it would hurt him if he wasn't completely lost within his ministrations. As her pleasure intensified, she ground her hips against his face, wrapping her legs so tightly across his neck that she'd worry about choking him were she not so otherwise distracted. "Oh shit, Teddy, oh Merlin..."

As her body convulsed all around him, Teddy tried to focus and remain unaffected by her reaction as the older witch screamed and moaned through her climax. One hand cupped her asscheek, so that he could press her closer to him while the few stray fingers on his right hand wandered adventurously down her crack and towards the warm orifice on the other side of her body.

When she came, it was as if he felt her pleasure in his own body. He'd done this to her, his subconscious mind reacted, he'd made her feel this good, and that was enough to send him over the edge, although Teddy did not realize it even as he moaned and shook still tongue deep inside her, filling the cozy suite with a cacophony of primal sounds.

"Fuck, Teddy, that was so good," Hermione muttered as her heart rate finally began to slow. Returning to her senses, she saw the teenager crouched on all fours above her, looking strangely embarrassed even though he had given her the best orgasm she'd experienced in Godric knew how long.

"I...I..."

"You did great, Teddy, Morgana that was so incredible." She reached towards his manhood, gripping in her fingers and looking forward to reciprocating her pleasure, but then frowned in confusion to find that he was wilting and dwindling in her hands.

"Sorry, Hermione," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "I got...I got too excited when I was down there and...I, I couldn't control myself."

"Oh Teddy." Lifting her head, indeed she saw a damp spot at the edge of the bed where he must have been positioned when he'd lost control in the midst of pleasuring her. "That's so sweet."

Still he blushed, even though she'd tried her best not to sound condescending. Picking up her wand from the nightstand, Hermione muttered a quick cleansing spell for their sheets, then pulled the boy's face close to hers, where she could see and smell her own dampness all over him.

"Teddy, you enjoy making others feel good. That's nothing to be ashamed of." If only she could keep him like this forever, eager to please, entirely and eternally devoted to her.

"Still," Teddy groaned in disbelief, he had never seen this happen in any of those movies. "I couldn't even last, before we even started to do anything."

"Trust me, Teddy, we've more than started, and I think we'll both be fine." Sitting up with a pillow supporting her back, she pulled his hips over towards her, taking his soft organ inside her mouth as he stood on his knees astride on either side of her. As she'd expected, she could still taste remnants of his seed upon him, and the touch of her tongue upon the tip of his penis at this particularly sensitive juncture made him gasp almost in pain. Careful to be gentle in her efforts for now, she cupped his balls with on hand, gentling massaging them while another hand fondled at the ass she'd been admiring since, when? Since she'd seen him in swimming trunks Morocco? Even before that, in Spain perhaps, when he'd been wearing those skinny jeans that were so in vogue with young men at the moment?

His hips buckled against her as he began to predictably harden inside her mouth. It did not take long before the young teenager returned to full mast again, one of the many fruits of illicitly plucking someone so ripe, Hermione supposed. She continued, teasing him and flitting the tip of his cock with her tongue, before realizing that she definitely did not want him to release again prematurely. Not until he'd given her what she wanted, anyhow.

"I want you, Teddy," she said, releasing him from her mouth and careful to hold him in a way which did not overly stimulate the young man. "Do you want me...do you want me like this?"

"More than anything," he whispered, eyes eager yet nervous, wandering back and forth between her lusty eyes and naked tits.

"Once we do this... _if_ we do this...there won't be any coming back from it." Again, Hermione asked herself just whom she was speaking to. Was she under the illusion that by stepping away now and not going all the way with Teddy, she could salvage herself from the crimes she'd already committed?

Rather than answer her, he bent down and kissed her passionately. With a sigh, Hermione laid back and allowed the young man to position himself on top of her, then gently guided him into her body before he would have clumsily attempted the same thing on his own.

"Oh my God, Hermione," he let out in practically a squeal as her arms wrapped around his back, sharp nails scratching playfully across his spine. "This is so...you feel so good."

As he tested each thrust in and out of her, Teddy couldn't decide whether he wanted to kiss the beautiful woman below him, who'd just allowed him to put himself inside her, or to bury his face by her neck and within her ample hair. Ultimately he collapsed, defaulting into the latter. She was everywhere, encompassing him, surrounding him, nowhere did he not feel the touch of her skin, the warmness of her body, her soul.

 _I'm home,_ he thought. _This is perfection. And I never want to leave._

His efforts were uneven at first, and Hermione placed one hand upon his ass to better guide his rhythm. He responded, demonstrating how much of a quick study he was, as they settled into a primal dance whose pace she could control, squeezing his rear and shoulder when she wanted him to intensify his efforts, tugging and rubbing at him when she needed him to slow down. It was almost as if she were driving one of those Muggle vehicles, turning the promising young wizard into nothing more or less than a perfect sex object made purely for her enjoyment.

Even if against her will, Hermione couldn't help but compare Teddy to the only other man she had been with. His shaft felt thinner than Ron's, but appeared to reach a tad deeper into her compared to her ex-husband. _He's still growing_ , Hermione thought naughtily, _and he's so much more responsive. So much more attentive. So unselfish. So eager to please, to learn._

Midway through their copulation, now that he possessed a better control of his body in conjunction with hers, Teddy raised his head and returned his lips to hers. In that moment they were one, conjoined, forming an unbreakable bond from entwined lips to curled toes. Then, just as she felt her second orgasm approaching, he seemed to break from their carefully earned rhythm, his pumps becoming more and more erratic, and while Hermione willed herself to climax before he lost it, it was too late, he exploded inside her, making a deep guttural sound that the young man would have been mortified by were he more aware of the moment, which he was not.

Continuing his spent thrusts, Teddy expunged a deep, satisfied sigh and collapsed atop of her, his organ slowly withdrawing from her. Even in his dazed state, he continued to plant small kisses upon her neck, the top of her breasts, nibbling lightly at her nipples.

"That was so amazing, Hermione," he said, kissing the bottom of her chin as he looked up at her with his puppy dog eyes. "I love you, Hermione."

"You were great, Teddy," she whispered, stroking his content hair in its natural, brown color. "Godric knows how great you'll be with a few more shags under your belt."

"You'll teach me, I trust?"

"I don't think I can help myself either way." That was her problem. Her fatal flaw. The key to her eventual undoing, Hermione was convinced.

Reluctantly, she shook the teenager off her chest and rose, picking up her wand before walking towards the motel's loo.

"I know what you're about to do," Teddy called after her, his voice as soft and subdued as she'd ever heard him. "I wish you'd let them stay in you for awhile, simmer around. Then you'd be stuck with me."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say the word ' _simmer_ ' in that context, Edward Remus Lupin," Hermione replied sternly, disappearing into the washroom and leaving Teddy to lie alone atop the massive bed, wondering just what it meant to have all his life's fantasies and dreams fulfilled in one surreal day and night.

"I love her," he whispered gleefully to himself. "She loves me. She wants me." He dared himself to go further. "She can't get enough of me."

After waiting blissfully on the bed for several minutes, Teddy found himself impatient again, eager to see and feel more of his lover. _Hermione. She's my lover. Not a surrogate aunt. Not my boss, not Harry's best friend, not Ron Weasley's wife. She's my lover._

Rising, he walked into the bathroom as naked as the day he was born, confident that he no longer had any need to feel shy in front of the woman who had captured his imaginations for what seemed to be his entire living memory. She'd apparently finished with whatever spells she needed to ensure that Rose and Hugo would not receive a younger sibling in the immediate future, and was now examining her eyeliner in the dusty motel mirror.

"Hey you," he whispered, nibbling at her ear as he approach her from behind. Eyes glued to the mirror, he watched his own hands fall atop of her bare body, caressing her breasts, her cute little belly, and further downward, each motion drawing a deeper moan from the older woman.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, "every mirror in the world can tell you that."

His limp form had positioned itself neatly in between her bare bum, and the more he stroked her down there, the more she ground against him, Merlin that felt so good.

"When did you get to be so smooth, young man?"

"I work for the smartest witch in all the world," he replied glibly, in between teasing her neck with his lips. "I'm bound to pick something up from this apprenticeship."

"Hmmpfff," Hermione maintained. "A lothario I am not." _Are you sure of that, after tonight, and what you did to corrupt this bright young man grinding against your bum at the moment?_

"I don't know what that means, but I think you're the sexiest little lothario that has ever existed."

Hermione giggled, staring transfixed at the mirror. There was indeed something incredibly alluring about watching a man make love to her skin, and watching the satisfied curling of her own lips smiling back at her.

"I'll forgive your ignorance."

"You will," he asked innocently.

"In exchange for a repeat performance." Grabbing at his rapidly stiffening form, the Brightest Witch of a fast fading and distant age vowed to stop fixating upon how hideously old her reflection appeared to her at the moment, looking forward instead to leading her young lover back to that wonderful king sized bed she'd just bought and paid for.


	11. Reality

When Hermione Granger woke up the next morning in the arms of her recently acquired fifteen year old lover, she found that it wasn't ecstasy filled flashbacks from the previous night which surfaced first, but the rising bile of shame and disgust she'd worked so hard to keep bottled up yesterday, on her special day for denial.

 _Who am I,_ she asked herself, blinking back tears.

_I'm a monster. I willingly seduced Harry's godson, whom he entrusted to me to responsibly care for._

There were no spells this time, no magical inducements, the bare minimum alcohol, just enough self-pity and the excuse of a broken anniversary to push her over the edge towards committing an unforgivable crime, and irreparably scarring a promising young man for life.

How did she get here? In hindsight, it all went wrong when she supposedly 'rationally' evaluated her heretofore unknown attraction to the teenager that morning in midtown Manhattan. She'd thought she had it all figured out, that by breaking down the root causes of her feelings she could thus confront, then suppress, her most depraved urges. Instead, all her reasoning had amounted to merely playing the victim, and making excuses for herself on every occasion. Blaming Teddy for acting too mature for his age, looking too mature for his age, rather than taking responsibility for feeling that way regardless of how an innocent teenager acted or looked.

Then there was Ron. She allowed herself a large degree of emotional leeway because Ron had cheated on her, Ron had left her vulnerable, in need, hurt, broken, so surely her feelings for little Teddy Lupin were absolutely Ron's fault and not her own, right? If he'd never cheated on her, then she never would have felt the urge to seduce a fifteen year old. If he'd been a more attentive husband, then she never would have acted on those urges.

Bollocks. Would Ron's infidelity excuse her if she committed an act of murder, or performed a Cruciatus on Chou or Ustinov in the middle of negotiations?

Clearly there was only one answer, a secret she'd avoided ever since that speakeasy in lower Manhattan. Hermione Granger, vaunted Undersecretary and diplomat, acclaimed member of the Golden Trio, war hero, wife and mother of two, noble Gryffindor in her mind all her life...was nothing more than _a bad person._ A sexual deviant. An base wench who possessed no control of her basest urges.

Then she felt him awaken next to her, felt his grip around her naked body tighten, shuddered as the first instincts the boy had upon waking was to plant loving kisses along the back of her neck and face, and all her doubts and self loathing, if they did not disappear entirely, returned to the deep dark recess in her heart which had enabled her to do what she had done to Teddy these last few days in the first place.

Because the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, all made her feel like the most special woman in the world, made her feel one of a kind. Because, she'd come to realize, not only did he love her in his naïve way, but he _accepted_ her. His infatuation was not just an unthinking fantasy, no, he absolutely loved her and adored her as she was. Who else could she say that for, that weren't already her parents or children? Certainly not Ron. Harry, perhaps, until he'd found out about what she'd done to his godson. She was a deviant, a criminal, perhaps her own children would hate her one day once they learned the full depths of her degeneracy, but for now, Teddy loved her without conditions, and fully accepted her with all her imperfections.

_It's all a lie, and you know that. You know better._

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, his breath damp and unwashed in the light of the morning, and Hermione recalled their third and most intense session from the last night. He'd held her in a spooning position, sliding in and out of her, all her body held within his arms, his control. Never did their lips and tongues break contact, and as he fucked her his hands wandered and strayed all over her body, clutching her breasts, fingering her clit, rubbing her belly and abdomen as the young man cautiously explored just how his modest morphing abilities could help give his partner pleasure. There'd been no problems with his stamina either, as it felt like he could've gone on forever, were the two of them not already exhausted from a long and most fulfilling day.

In his arms she'd felt small, she'd felt safe, secure, even though that had been a preposterous notion considering not only their respective ages, but the fact that Hermione Grange of the Golden Trio was renowned as one of the world's most powerful and fearful witches. Nevertheless, the illusion had been more than enough in the throes of passion, and seemed more than enough the morning after to get her to forget about all those trifling moral qualms that would have horrified the Hermione Granger from before this summer, before her divorce.

"Fuck me," she whispered to him, bending down on all fours. "Fuck me." He obliged, hard and lustful before he was even fully awake. As he'd never been with a woman in this position before, it took Teddy a few tries to properly insert himself into her, though the eager teenager quickly figured out that the best to leverage his body against hers was to grip at her hips, pulling her body towards his own as he slammed again and again into her.

"Fuck me," Hermione continued to scream, not caring at all about their reverberations into the neighboring rooms. This was all she deserved, the witch told herself. She did not deserve love, so she would not let Teddy make love to her. No, she deserved to be fucked, to be punished, to be castigated and marked and branded for her crimes.

When he'd finished, Hermione walked wordlessly into the shower. Strangely enough she did not cry immediately. Perhaps that was due to the fact that she was trying so hard not to feel anything at all. Not the lingering pleasure in her loins from their activities last night and this morning. Not her stinging regret, nor her growing longing for a man she could never have. Not for long, anyhow.

Losing herself in the blistering waters, she barely heard him walk into the bathroom, first brushing his teeth, before pulling open the shower curtain and joining her inside, having seen no need to dress himself in the meantime.

"What's wrong Hermione?"

He'd waited, and it disappointed him when she went mute, because he thought he'd earned her trust by now. He'd assumed that, after all they'd shared in and outside of bed, that she might finally feel comfortable in confiding in him all her troubles, all the depths of her emotions, good or bad. Because that's what lovers did with each other, wasn't it? Because as great as she felt and as amazing as she made him feel, it all meant nothing if she remained so sad, and he remained helpless to do anything about it.

"You know this can't last, right?" She spoke without turning her head to look at him, even as he embraced her lightly, joining her under the showerhead's cleansing waters. He should have known these words were coming, but Teddy had hoped for a longer honeymoon at the very least.

"I know that when this trip is over, that you'll have your family, and I'll have Harry and Ginny watching over me. I'll have to return to Hogwarts. But, I think that if we love each other enough, if you want to make this work as much as I do, we can find a way. Maybe we'll have to wait until I turn sixteen, once we return to the real world. Or when I finish Hogwarts, for the sake of your career. I'll go celibate if I have to, I've lasted fifteen years this way already, it won't be easy, but I'd manage, if you promise to wait for me. But, I think we're both clever enough to find a way to see each other without others finding out. It won't be as much as I'd like, Merlin knows that, but anything I can get of Hermione Granger is better than nothing."

The young wizard hoped that his words would have a positive effect upon her, demonstrating and impressing upon her that he hadn't jumped into this love affair thoughtlessly, that contrary to what she believed, he did take into consideration her family, her career, her reputation, and that he would do everything he could so that she did not lose everything. What he did not expect was for the dam to finally burst, for the naked woman before him to break down and bawl uncontrollably.

"Oh Teddy," Hermione cried, turning towards the soul so pure that she dared not look him in the eye. But she allowed him to hold her, to whisper foolish notions that everything was going to be okay. This wasn't the first time Hermione had cried in front of him, but it was the first time Teddy could unreservedly comfort her, feeling each and every paralyzing spasm inside his arms until her sobs slowly died down to whimpers. Ironically, this bout of tears felt worse to him, because she'd been invariably spilling her tears over him this time, not Ron.

"I want you, Teddy," she breathed into his chest.

"I want you too, Hermione," he said, befuddled, the woman he loved still gripped tightly inside his arms. "What's wrong, then?"

"Even if we continue this, Teddy...if we can sneak around and avoid Harry and Molly and Rita Skeeter's infernal cameras...I'll lose you one day Teddy, I know I will."

"What are you talking about?"

Rather than answer, she pulled him in and kissed him as passionately as he could ever recall. There was a possessive way in which her lips claimed his, biting and tugging while she cupped both her hands delicately around the bottom of his face.

"Promise me you'll leave me, Teddy." She continued before the confused teenager could question her further. "There will come a day when the magic ends, and you'll see me not as this fantastical woman of your dreams, but as the old woman that I am. When you realize that there are so many pretty and smart and beautiful and kind and powerful women in this world, women your age, that you might never get to know if you insist on holding onto me. There will come a day when you start doubting yourself, the choices you made in your life, on this trip, or afterwards, if we continue this. You'll realize that the things you've promised me you didn't mean, because you were too young to say such things, and I never should have allowed you to make such promises in the first place."

"Hermione, I'd never..."

"Listen to me Teddy," she interrupted forcefully. _"This is how the world works_ , this is how the human heart goes, and grows. What we have right now, Teddy...is absolutely wonderful and magical. Let it remain that way then. I don't want you to have to regret this, Teddy, if it has to be anyone, then let me shoulder that burden. So when that day comes, and the magic fades between us, and your heart yearns to escape my clutches, to experience life without my shackles, I want you to leave me. I don't care how hard I cry, how loud I scream, how desperate I am to cling on to you...walk away. Promise me, Teddy, promise me you'll walk away, promise that you _simply won't allow me_ to hold you back."

Of course his first instinct was to debate her on what she knew was the truth. "That'll never happen, Hermione. I'll never leave you like that, because I'll never stop loving you."

"You don't know that!" She'd nearly screamed the words at him, and pounded one small fist upon his bare chest for additional effect. "Teddy Lupin, if you want to kiss me again, if you want to touch me or spend another waking minute with me, you have to promise me that you won't allow me to ruin your life, any more than I've already have, at least."

There was more that she wanted to say to him. That he didn't know her, not the _real_ her. The Hermione Granger he'd known as a child was a fantasy, an archetype of the attractive older woman who'd occasionally intruded into his life on occasion. Then, the Hermione Granger he'd gotten to known on this trip was 'The Undersecretary', a role she played, not who she actually was. The international jetsetter, the suave politician and tough negotiator, that was all an act. She did not go to endless happy hours in real life, flit from lounge to bar to lounge to luxury swimming pool, indulge from one fantastical and romantic city to another with no regard for budget or money. No, the real Hermione was a homebody, a mother who occasionally sought sanctuary from her busy life by cooking, buying groceries, and if she were lucky, curling up with a good book on a rare lazy Sunday morning, and an energetic young man like Teddy could only stare at her lovingly while she read for so long before he eventually got bored of her.

Yet she could tell Teddy none of this. Because it would hurt him, she told herself. Because it would ruin the illusion they were currently enjoying, she knew in her heart of hearts, and because she did not want to break through that glass door just yet.

Sighing, the young man conceded. "I promise you, Hermione." What was the point? It was an easy promise for him to make, because it could never happen, he simply could not imagine a day when he didn't love Hermione like he did now. "I promise you that the moment I no longer want to be with you, that I'll leave you."

"Thank you," she said, feeling a desperate and heavy weight leaving her body, as she closed her eyes and pressed her face against his shoulder once more.

"I think it'd be more likely that Voldemort might return, but I promise you anyway." He said the words so lightly that he didn't she'd heard him. She did, but chose to ignore him for once.

The rest of the day was a subdued one for the both of them, as if they were both out of words to say to each other now that they had fully consummated their shared urges. There wasn't much to pack up, considering neither of them had brought with them more than a day's worth of clothes. Teddy took the helm of the broom again, and she held onto him, this time feeling the shame of groping a teenager that she had somehow banished from her mind the previous day. Returning their rental at a station in Jasper, they took the Floo back to Las Vegas, where their hotel lobby was already abuzz with diplomats checking out with suitcases packed for the next city of their itinerary.

Thus as badly as Teddy wanted to follow Hermione into her room, he couldn't do so out of discretion. The first thing he did then was to send her a quick Muggle text asking her to open her room Floo to him, and transported himself over. He found her sitting on her bed, seemingly staring out into nothingness.

"Hey." He sat down and carefully placed a kiss on her forehead. She responded, but not as enthusiastically as he would have hoped, but at least she took his hand when he placed it onto her lap. "You haven't really said much since this morning."

"Hmm. I guess I haven't, have it?" Her eyes weren't red, but Teddy thought she looked like she had been crying, or was about to cry.

"I'm serious, Hermione. I'm worried about you. Is there something wrong? Tell me, I want you to trust me."

What was she supposed to say? That everything was wrong? That she wasn't sure whether the right thing for her to break his heart immediately, or keep violating Teddy over and over again so that she wouldn't hurt him now? Either way, she was hurting him in one manner or another.

"I don't know what to say, Teddy. What I've just done to you is one of the worst things a woman like me can do to a boy your age."

"Did it feel bad? Did it feel wrong last night, or this morning?" He put his arm around her back, trying desperately to hide how terrified he was that, as strongly as he felt about her, as far as their relationship had seemingly progressed overnight, he still stood just one wrong word away from possibly losing her forever.

"It doesn't matter," came her predictable reply. "I've crossed a line. I can sleep with you again right now, on this bed. Breaking this off won't erase what I've already done, right? So I might as well go off the deep end, enjoy myself. But then, I'm sure Voldemort comforted himself by saying the same thing, didn't he? Oh, I've already committed an unforgivable and scratched off one piece of my soul, what's the harm in keeping on, commit a few more murders, make a few more horcruxes?"

"You're not Voldemort, Hermione," Teddy objected, amazed that he even had to say such a thing to the amazing woman next to him. "You're the absolute opposite of him. If you've committed a crime, it's loving someone, and allowing yourself to be loved."

"You make it sound so simple," Hermione replied resentfully. Softly he kissed her, to try and demonstrate that his intent wasn't to be callous, and despite her better judgment, Hermione could not help but respond, as if the moment his lips touched her, she became transformed into a feral and unthinking animal.

"I know it's not," he conceded. "Look, I agree. I think about most of my classmates, and I doubt they'd be ready for something like this. Victoire, she's like my best friend, and if a wizard your age ever tried to put his grubby paws on her, and I'd probably Avada Kedavra them, screw the consequences. Most of my blokes I'd tell them they're mad if they came back from summer and told me they were going at it with some lady twice their age, and that their woman's probably just as bonkers as they are. But I'm not them, Hermione, and you're not just any woman or man your age. Maybe you can accept that I'm different, I know what exactly what I want, I know exactly what I'm doing, and apparently I'm pretty good at it too."

She couldn't help but smile and blush at his suggestive words, and he continued.

"You're different too. You're not a predator, it's not like you went and crept into my room and lifted up my covers while I was sleeping. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I doubt you've ever looked at someone my age before. And you probably wouldn't have wanted me, if I hadn't been coming on to you all summer long. I mean, I'd like to thing that I'm charming and handsome and enjoyable to be around, that we didn't do what we did last night simply because you have a predilection for chaps in between their Fourth and Fifth Years."

There were severe flaws in his logic, even though her mind seemed too clouded to pick apart his analysis at this time.

"For the record," Hermione said humorously, "I didn't go and snog you because you hit on me. I...I," she found it difficult to even say the words out loud, as if not admitting it vocally might successfully hide the truth, from both her conscience, and the world at large.

"I slept with you last night Teddy, because I feel something for you. And I feel something for you not because you're some world renowned lothario in training, Teddy, but just the opposite. Because you're kind, and you're caring, and you're sensitive, and funny, and...and, being the object of adulation from someone like you, Teddy...it makes me feel special." There, she said it. "You make me feel special, Teddy, perhaps more so than any man ever has in my life. Because of who you are, because I know that you mean whatever you say to me, because I trust your sincerity, and your heart..."

She needed to stop herself. Here she sat, so easily goaded into listing all the reasons why she _should_ continue this affair with a fifteen year old child. So there she sat, unsure of her own moral compass for the first time in her life, drowning in a tempestuous storm where right and wrong swirled all about her, and she couldn't see or hear or breathe under its tow. When she felt him tuck two fingers to the side of her face and pull her towards his lips she relented, she gave in, not because she made the conscious choice to kiss him back, but she felt like she had no choice at this point. Because Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of her Age, war and Muggle-born icon and hero of the Golden Trio, knew herself too well, she knew her mind too well. She knew that she could easily argue against herself to death, listing every argument against her conscience as to why she should continue this illegal tryst.

So why bother then? Why torture herself endlessly? Knowing that she would never win, or lose, a debate against herself, Hermione thought that perhaps the only course of action left to her was to stop arguing. Stop thinking. Just act. Just do what she wanted. Just take what she wanted, while she still could, before this trip ended and they both had to return to reality.

They lay there in her makeshift bed, kissing each other endlessly and doing no more than that. He barely reached at her with his tongue at all, gently nibbling and playing with her lips, and Hermione sensed that the perfect Hufflepuff next to her was acting not out of lust right now, but love. Teddy held her body in his hands calmly, not because he was planning to rip off her clothes and have his way with her (again), but because he was worried about her, because was concerned, and he wanted to make her feel better about herself, about them, and this was his way of trying once he had run out of words. (It was working.)

Hermione did not know how long they might have remained on that bed, gently making out, before a light rap on her door interrupted them both.

"It's probably Luna," Hermione said, recognizing the understated style of her friend. "Go run to the wash room, just in case."

"Oh 'Mione, your snogimtums look absolutely beautiful together!"

Her instincts were correct. Hermione's favorite Ravenclaw flitted into the room, blinking her eyes happily at her and a cautiously emerging Teddy, projecting vacant happiness towards both of them.

"Luna," Hermione stumbled. "We...look, me and Teddy..." When it came down to it, she found herself unable to even speak out loud to a third party what they had done the night before.

"Oh, when I trying to sleep last night, Chou's a really loud snorer, you know, and this after he cried his little heart out, I thought, I hope Hermione's having a good day today. I hope that Teddy's treating her right, but there's no doubt about that, is there, you sweet little thing?"

"It was..." A mistake? Was it? Even if it was, that wasn't a word she should say in front of Teddy. "Luna, the last week has been extremely confusing for me, and i feel like I can't even think straight...wait, did you just say you slept with Chou?"

Merlin, did she just accidentally pimp one of her best friends out? How low was she willing to sink on this trip, willingly or unwillingly?

"Oh, it was no big deal," Luna said dismissively. "He seems so quiet and secretive, but he's actually really sweet, once he has a lot to drink, you know, the drunk to the point of Obliviating yourself kind of drunk."

"You got Chou drunk and then slept with him?" Sheer incredulousness was now replacing any feelings of shame towards how she might have used Luna.

"Oh don't worry, Ro and I aren't the jealous kind. Usually we like to record each other, but not this time, _obviously_ , cause of diplomacy and everything. And it was kind of a mood killer too, you know, the whole crying during sex thing."

Hermione glanced over at Teddy, just to make sure that his jaw was dropped as low as hers, while the blonde witch continued the account of her night.

"But Hermione, you've got nothing to worry about from him. I went through _a lot_ of memories during the Legilimens, and saw nothing about D'Jinns or trying to kill you. Oh, he's been trying to block the Muggle-born statutes that seem so make or break for everyone right now, but he's willing to reconsider so long as you agree to a strengthening of the sovereignty protections and veto powers. Oh, and a small bribe wouldn't hurt either, obviously you'd never do that, Hermione, but it wouldn't hurt to look away for once, I'm sure you have friends who would be willing to step in."

Her mouth agape, for once she'd forgotten the depths of her own crimes, although only in the aftermath of listening to Luna's absurd story that she wished was just fiction for the moment.

"You used a Legilimens on Ambassador Chou?"

"Oh, he asked for it," Luna continued without a beat. "I told him I was some kind of expert, oh, what do Muggles call those again, psychotherapists! Except for wizards. He's got a lot of issues, he got beaten pretty badly as a child, to start with. Anyway, I helped Obliviate him of all the bad stuff, and he's all good now. Well, as undamaged as a grown man can be, but I daresay he's going to be a lot more bubblier in all those dreadful meetings, Hermione. And oh, don't worry, he's not going to remember any of this. Well, he'll remember me helping him, but he won't remember me going through all his other memories, cause he was pretty drunk, and I Obliviated those memories just in case too."

Damn, this woman was ruthless, even if she were entirely unaware of her own latent capabilities.

"So let me get this straight. You got Chou drunk, slept with him, convinced him...no, manipulated him to let you inside his mind under some sort of guise...while he was barely conscious, no less, then violated his memories to obtain information for me, Obliviated him and covered your tracks..."

 _...while violating about a dozen protocols against the Wizengamot's rules and International bylaws_ , she restrained herself from saying. Luna had done it for her sake, indeed, and if she'd been...a tad too enthusiastic in her tasks, then that was Hermione's fault for delegating to the wrong person.

"Was that not good," Luna asked cautiously, frowning as she began to discern hints that Hermione was not as pleased by her exploits than she would have hoped.

"Oh no, that was great, absolutely smashing, Luna. It really ties up some loose ends for me, saves me a lot of manpower, not to mention Kingsley..." Merlin, she definitely could not tell him the full truth in her report; it was funny how one lie seemed to beget the next flurry of them on this tour. Hermione forced herself to refrain from blaming Luna for any of this newest catastrophe, as it wasn't her fault that she had chosen to thrust her friend blindly into her world like this. "I owe you the world for this, Luna, I can't even describe it. Next time you're in London..."

"Oh, I'm sure you and Teddy will make for wonderful hosts," Luna said confidently with a wink, beaming as if what had happened the night could solely be attributed to her efforts at matchmaking. "It was nothing, I should come to Vegas more often, Hermione, we should make more girl trips out of it..."

She was thankful when the woman took the Floo back to New York, leaving her and Teddy alone again...a blessing or a curse, Hermione still hadn't decided yet.

"Do you want to snog more," Teddy asked, feigning shyness because Hermione knew that once she let that toothpaste out of the tube, she'd received a young man as voracious for her as a once powerful Dark Lord had been for power whom she could not exactly return to the manufacturer.

"We should probably finish packing," she answered, delaying the inevitable. "I've heard a lot of great things about the cafe's in Cartagena. I'd like to get there early enough so that we can enjoy a cup with the sunset."

And so it went. Another new city, new country, new continent, another romantic dalliance in new environs which would serve to further engrain what feelings they had for each other. And half of Hermione, all her heart, to the detriment of her conscience and good sense, absolutely looked forward to it with an enthusiasm she had not felt in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the few of you who have stuck with this story.
> 
> This past chapter, I believe, is crucial to the story at large. It demonstrates that these two characters do not exist in a vacuum. Hermione is fully aware of all the problematic aspects of their relationship. Sometimes she tries to justify it, sometimes she tries to fight it. But the key is that she's aware, and even if she hates herself for it, Hermione does not necessarily believe herself in the right, nor does she attempt to justify morally, her decision to have engaged or to continue to engage in her affair with Teddy.
> 
> As for Teddy, even he understands that the abnormal nature of their relationship to a certain extent (though not as in depth as Hermione, obviously). He merely believes he is and ought to be the exception (along with Hermione).
> 
> I hope that this chapter makes evident too that there is a vast gulf of maturity borne from life experience between Teddy and Hermione, as mature as the former might believe himself to be at the moment. He fervently believes that he is mature enough to make the decision to engage in a relationship with Hermione, that his feelings for her are eternal and pure and would never change, thus justifying the illicit nature of their relationship. 
> 
> Is he right? Is he wrong? Neither character can answer that question honestly at this juncture of the story.


End file.
